Poem: Getting High

There’s a party going on

clear icy liquid ampules prescribed

I share the nebulizer with my wife

it sends us into a steamy misty paradise

from the tip of our lips

to the bronchioles of our souls

one seven-percent solution at a time

one breath and then the next

slowly we feel our tightness open

our spirits lifting, worries released

the spell is broken

the axe of Hendrix shatters

stoking the internal fires

warming our cold hands and hearts

we can finally dream again

one breath and then the next

as the world rotates around us

one inhale, and the next

as the medicinal mist

slowly dissolves.


Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

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