Dope and Poetry on the Front Porch
I have heard/read all of these poems in the parlors of hosts whose friends smoke dope on the front porch before coming in, pulling a piece of notebook paper out of their pockets and announce, "This one is still pretty raw".
Not that there is anything wrong with that if you've had a couple of drinks and are surrounded by kids your age.
Email your subversions and perversions: