smoothie: a dream

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

as i was walking down the street a strawberry smoothie i did meet i asked him for the time of day but what it was he could not say he pointed to the moon and stars and asked if folks still smoked cigars i told him that that form of sin had been consigned to history’s bin he asked me if i thought the times were propitious for oracular rhymes i answered that the wisest sages were hiding, if not burning, their pages the smoothie and i parted ways i entered a forgotten maze where demons sing, and gods are slain and no memory is too arcane