FEET IN THE AIR

Sparking a joint I walked across the deep dark Bering Sea;

feet did not get wet as I strolled along this path worry free. 

Fierce creatures of the bottomless sea looked up at me;

laughing I exhaled a cloud from this wicked-ass-crip-tree.

Eyes red as sin I continued my stride toward a beached whale; though my pace seemed fast I approached slow as a fucken snail.

Gasping for air she bellowed out a loud deafening hail;

she asked if I could help her escape this forsaken sandy jail.

Pushing hard upon her nose gave way to a shrieking yelp;

mind raced off wondering if I should prolong any help.

Luckily from the distance I saw Franklin Roosevelt;

I asked him if he would mind moving this mammoth sized welt;

unfortunately he had to go meet Eleanor Roosevelt!

Jim Morrison sauntered by and said I was killing his buzz;

paranoid he looked around to see if there was any fuzz.

Reluctantly he agreed to push – that’s how the day ‘twas.

Setting the whale free we smoked a joint – he swore I was his cuz.

As Jim walked away I noticed his feet were naked and bare;

watching his freedom I decided on my feet nothing wear.

From that day forward I must be honest and to you swear,

that my greatest joy comes when I walk with my feet in the air.