1999
The year I graduated high school
The year I started college, reluctantly
Thought I was so cool
1999
And what is forefront in my mind
is psilocybin
Mind bent
on magic mushrooms
1999
I’d tried it before
and acid too
because, after all
marijuana
is the gateway drug
So what’s the big deal?
The big deal is
me and half a dozen friends
ingested a large quantity
of caps & stems
crystalline blue
and we gobbled them down
about a quarter each
1999
The baddest trip
I’d ever flip
sprouted from cow shit
1999
And I knew I couldn’t drive
But I wanted to be home
And nothing else mattered
Gave my keys
to my best friend
Said we need to go
I’m tired
You’re tired?!
Another friend passed out
Hit his head on a
pinball machine
I’d wished I’d done the same
1999
We hit the highway
Bright lights
were halos
from fallen angels
1999
Convinced I would die
right here on I-25
Just blood stains
and crushed metal remains
1999
But it was not my time
We got off
not two exits later
Pulled over into
an empty lot
My hooded sweatshirt
on backwards
merging with my skin
like a Spider-Man villain
1999
Fumbling for my cigarettes
We’re dying!
Oh shit!
We’re dying!
This is what it’s like!
So we got out of the van
marched into a 7-Eleven
That poor store clerk
Call an ambulance!
We’re dying!
Eyes were silver dollars
1999
I gave the paramedic
the last of my weed
Said I won’t be needing this
1999
Couldn’t remember my address
or for fuck’s sake my phone number
And in the hospital
all I got
was a lousy valium
and a phone call to a parent
The doctor was a smug bastard
Said, no, you’re not going to die
like someone had lied to us
from the very start
1999
That was an
interesting ride home
But at least I
was coming
down
1999
And boy was my dad pissed
At least I’d lived to die another day
Written for dVerse “1999” poetry prompt.
damn. whata ride man…1993 i hit pretty much the same ride…it was lsd though…what a horrible trip…i called my parents at one point because i was left alone and wigging out…it was shortly there after i went into the hospital cause i had wore myself out…and crashed…and that was the turning point for me…
So much good stuff here; these are my favorites:
“Mind bent on magic mushrooms”
“But I wanted to be home And nothing else mattered” … Wow. It all starts with this thought, doesn’t it?
“My hooded sweatshirt on backwards merging with my skin”
“That was an interesting ride home But at least I was coming down”
Perfect closing line. I really enjoyed this “trip” back.
What a trip in the fast lane and back to your parent’s care. Those were the days ~
That’s the stuff I never would touch. Frankly, I’m too damn scared of myself.
Really fine write.
That was a good trip. The poem. Not the bad trip.
I’m a drugtard; is lsd = shrooms, or different? Nevermind; I’ll google it. . .
Anyway, great description of the fear of dying from something self-ingested. I’ve felt it from booze before.
wow.ouch. I guess it’s all there, no guessing. If that was you, glad you are here twelve years later!
dang what a ride…and glad you made it to the other side…i know some who didn’t..
Sorry..this may not have been your intention but I thought your poem was absolutely hilarious..especially the part with the store clerk and the silver dollar eyes. I can see this as a movie sort of like ‘Blazing Saddles’ The only poem that has made me laugh today. Thanks.
Stephen, I am running out of ways to tell you I adore your words…
I love how you stepped OUTSIDE your poet voice here and told us
something so essential…
Thanks for taking me along; what a ride. 🙂