it was another late
morning
mid week

i was rolling a skinny
joint
with some leftovers
from the table

when my lady walked out
of the bathroom

oh my god, she said
i just laid
the biggest turd
i’ve ever seen
it took minutes
to come out
i just sat there &
waited
then i got up
to look at it
it was huge
circular
i couldn’t see
the end of it

really? i said

really, she said
but it was brown &
firm
well-formed,
so i must be
okay,
she said

that’s good, i said

it is, she said

then she sat down
next to me:
my woman

that’s a skinny joint
you’re rolling,
she said

it is, i said
it is

Image CreditEarl Wilcox

Lance Watson's poetry operates at the intersection of space and time. Haha. Okay, that's bullshit. But what the fuck. Lance Watson writes poetry and other shit sometimes when he gets high, which is more often than probably most people should, but as I said, what the fuck. LOL. Have fun, folks. --Lance Watson

P.S. If you've never written about yourself in the third person, as though you were dead, you should try it sometime. Why? How the fuck would I know. It's fun.