Inmate 2917

Every night I go outside

Rain pouring

Star above

Horses and cows rustling in the grass

I puff 3 times and normality

Runs rampant

Setting me on an even kilt

Before I would puff all day and night and I might be wary of sound I make

Now I sit in barred windows in a padded cell

Where I am told when and what to eat

When to sleep and when to wake

I am told what not to think

Like inmate two 9 one 7

Only reason they haven’t bought me clothes is they cannot without missing some kind of rent

In the beginning of puffing for me was done in the pair with no opposition beside me

Now he sits barreling a rule book of attitudes and reconsiderations

For me to choose what not to do

A wicked retreat from this dwelling is burning up my body from my knees

The planned escape on a plane to Austin Texas or maybe New Orleans

After I stop in San Francisco stopping at terminal C

A new life temporarily

Farming and living simply

Roading and see all I can see

For two months maybe three

Who knows if I will come back home again