getting high

we love it.

in the morning when our stomachs turn.

I knew a girl, she kept a kettle beside her bed

she would put the water on

and dip back under the covers

her messy hair sticking out like a dead wig

and she would hum a tune as the boiling began

and when it grew to a whistle, she would jump up

in her underwear and her t-shirt

and bounce around on the bed while the kettle blew hot steam into the air,

singing at the top of her lungs,

“OH DONNY BOY, THE PIPES, THE PIPES ARE CALLING”

she would then deliver a great wallop

into my spine

and demand scrambled eggs

and after pouring some coffee

she would open the curtains

and tuck back into bed,

getting high,

one cup at a time.