a neighbour’s pot is in the evening air
somehow both sweet and acrid all at once
and I am gone away to summer and 19 years old;

a hash and coke and who knows what place,
where money left the hands faster than it came
as David Byrne and Jon Anderson sing
to a laughinglaughinglaughing crowd
that knows they’re there
but can’t bring themselves to care;
minstrels to an idiot court