high at the border

I ride a bus across the border,Into the U.S. of A.,And they confiscate my clementine.The flashback from last night’s edible hitsRight as the guard starts in with her questions.Where do you live? She asks.I stumble over my response.I have lived in so many places.I have had so many little lives this side of the border.TheContinue reading “High at the Border”