Do you remember that nostalgic haze?
Smoking forty shades over long summer days.
Our only defence against the species midgie
Was the smoke of that expensive-ass squidgy.
The skins numbered three,
A puff for you and a puff for me.
Over the bridge and under the influ-ence,
Ounce for ounce we had more ganj than sense.
Dazed and confused on our bicycle jaunts,
The pit, the hole and the barrel were our favourite haunts.
Seedy and lurid through the parental lens,
But a second home to us good friends.
Inside an industrial wood chipper,
Our only light, the spark of a trusted clipper.
And as we drew from the glowing gauze,
We’d be breaking many laws.
Vandalism, trespassing and substance abuse,
Teenage time put to good use.
Then make our way to the leisure centre,
This is where the new crew enter.
Tulips, waterfalls and rushies,
Sit back with six for seven Dutchies.
Like renegade masters we’d breathe in little fluffy clouds,
And barely see each other through smoke filled shrouds.
Our postures grew slanter,
With each passing giggle and meandering banter.
“What if Jesus was a pterodactyl” you proclaimed,
The laughter from this could not be contained.
Soon we’d crave the munch bunch fix,
Cheesecake, crisps and dolly mix.
Through bloodshot eyes and squinted lid,
We’d navigate the Tesco grid.
From the steps and through the door,
Checking out was the biggest chore.
We’ed munch, scoff and devour,
All in less than a quarter of an hour.
Then time to go home,
And hope with parents you won’t be left alone.
Under a suspicious gaze,
They’ve identified your new found laze.
Desperately trying to be normal,
You foolishly act too formal.
“Mother, Father, to the bathroom I must go”,
Now quick, run to bed and they’ll never know.
Do you remember that nostalgic haze?
It wasn’t just a short term phase.
Darimo 