This treat is ganja, then I mangia—hoggish me.
I can’t refrain, so pounds I gain—a twain of C.*

Weight’s 13 stone; leaves get me stoned—dope bothers me.

It’s got green leaves; it’s cut in sheaves when it has grown.
It’s quite a sight in the sunlight until it’s mown.

It looks like thyme but packs a POW! Dope boggles me.

I know I’ll be forever shamed as I pack on the pounds I’ve gained.
Because to smoke gives me munchies; I go and get lunchies.

And swill sweet beer. . .any treat near. . .today, Gamay;
I’ll fetch some Rhône and not atone. . .toke day, Tokay.

So plump in pounds, eating a scone—toast-scoffin’ me.
Then some rib prime, scored from a cow—roast-scoffin’ me.

I know I’ll be forever shamed unless my appetite is tamed,
Because to smoke gives me munchies; I go and get brunchies.

I’ll kill a deer, field-dress it near this state highway,
Gnaw on a bone and moan and groan—my phones, outré.

Then I come down, grieving ’cause stoned—dope. . .noshin’ me.
Dope. . .bott’mless me. . . .


*100