Winston Smoked Me
I heard first his every growl rumble
Forming in that fertile place between
Mind, and men who listen.
Had to be agile in those tumultuous days
Content enough to be
Rolled, crimped, fired, drawn, or set aside.
Once grabbed away, felt
His shock, anger flare, fade
In seconds caught, recorded evermore.
Felt the sharp tension of eloquence
Shake the foundations of my place
shift the anchors of perception.
Flotsam I was on the tide of his vast thoughts,
Jetsam on the current of his words
Castaway on the tempest of his times.
Tasting his economy of speech
Promising tears and nothing more
My breath exhausted, fogging all of space
And time with his exhortation,
Energy, exhausting passion
To be free.