Every Other Night & The Pot Farmer Poem by Tom Zart

EVERY OTHER NIGHT

If it was left to me and my desire
I would seek satisfaction every other night.
I would enjoy your divine, God given love
And hold you forever close and tight.

Every other night would be Heavenly for me
Though I must respect and honor what you do and say.
My need for you is far greater than your need for me
As I patiently wait for our time of play.

I will always remain watchful, loving and caring
Not to hurt, destroy, mistrust, dissatisfy or offend.
Out of all God's blessings from Heaven to Earth
You're my greatest treasure, passion and friend.

THE POT FARMER

I got out my pipe and stuffed it with pot
You better believe, it held a whole lot.
I whipped out a lighter and thumbed up a flame
Then sucked down that smoke which comforts my brain.

I tried alcohol; and smoked cigarettes
Though, they did nothing, but give me regrets.
My mom had arthritis and couldn't walk around
When I rolled her a joint, she danced on the ground.

I thought I was losing my lovemaking knack
But, after I smoked some, to me it came back.
Soon I decided prices were too high
So I searched for some ground I wouldn't have to buy.

I bargained for seeds from smokers all around
Then, got in my truck and drove out of town.
I walked through the woods where the wild birds nest
And found me the meadow I thought was the best.

I dug up the ground and sowed all my seeds
Then said a small prayer for strong, healthy weeds.
I watered at night with a five-gallon pail
The mosquitoes went hungry for I wore a veil.

Seven months went by; I thought I would die
Till the Halloween moon was high in the sky.
One night I went out, in my camouflage suit
And used a corn knife to chop down the loot.

I hung it up to dry where it couldn't be found.
Then came back and got it, when it had turned brown.
I trimmed off the buds, and stuffed them in bags
Called all my friends and passed out free drags.

In less than a week, my crop was gone!
But, I flew to St. Thomas with love hungry blonde.

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