After your grandmother’s funeral
your uncle and I boiled them in a pot
a whole bag of morning glory seeds
and I drank that soil-black tea
we’d speculated would be hallucinogenic
I’m somewhat amazed I didn’t die
After your grandmother’s funeral
your uncle and I boiled them in a pot
a whole bag of morning glory seeds
and I drank that soil-black tea
we’d speculated would be hallucinogenic
I’m somewhat amazed I didn’t die
1 Comment | 100 Short Poems | Tagged: black tea, morning glory seeds, morning glory tea, poem, poetry | Permalink
Posted by Jakob Rehlinger
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