Dispensary Poem by Jefferson Carter

DISPENSARY




The kindest people on earth? 

My fellow patrons of the Prime Leaf Cannabis Dispensary,
men & women who hold the heavy glass door
open for you & take your arm
to help guide you up the three sharp steps

to the showroom which features products

promising Eden, days without trauma drama.

These men & women with dirty hair,
wearing rusty black jeans & faded t-shirts
advertising heavy metal bands, rocking 

Chuck Taylor high-tops held together with silver duct tape? 
fFnally, my tribe! 



Gripping my bag of gummies,

I wave goodbye & fall into my sixteen-year-old Fit,

warning myself not to speed, to stay alert,
knowing my lost reflexes & double vision

pose a danger to others. If I was truly kind, 

I'd give my wife my car keys & ask her to hide them

someplace I'd never find. Never? Well, no, maybe
just until my license expires or I do.