Pot Poem by H E Hasben
Made enough money yet?
Stole anybody’s car lately?
The car thieves are wearing uniforms.
The car thieves are wearing robes.
Everybody making money,
Singing our war song.
It’s the money song.
It’s the law, baby,
Protecting you from pot.
Hard times but no prison guards losing work.
Gotta have jobs.
Good for jobs locking these black people up
for pot,
for something in their pocket.
Every few prisoners
is a new job for
a white All American prison guard,
and the country needs jobs.
I know it’ is no gun,
but
hell they were driving while black and
bringing the pot to
to our family member,
oh you have one too?
We show their faces in the paper
to let people know we are fighting this war
on pot,
on those who were
caught bringing the pot
to our family member,
oh you have one too?
Those criminals?
Them black people!
Oh let’s sing a song.
“Oh search their car.
Oh take their car.
and lock them in a cell
they should have never driven black
So why treat them well.”
No poets need to cry,
every thing is fine,
just peachy.
Oh they’ll never search
the judge’s car
we can leave our pot
in there.
Here is another pot poem:
Oh we’ll keep doing it won’t we?
As if anyone cared more than we,
we paragons of virtue.
Oh look at those in front of us
for this weed,
this plant,
this maker of money,
this earth medicine,
whose very name we dare not say.
Oh look
at those in front of us
They are just the ones who were caught,
and we are taking their money,
and we are ruining their lives.
Who are the last prisoners of our war?
Who are the last prisoners of our war?
Our war on the poor.
We are my friend,
we are.
Oh Al Capone!
You’d be in Miami now
on the beach,
laughing again.
Laughing your fat ugly laugh.
We defend those who serve us by defending our laws and wearing uniforms that bear witness to the sacrifices they make for us. We strongly defend our law officers and our judges. It is our responsibility as citizens to provide just laws for them to defend. They will be faithful to the laws we present. It is our fault, not theirs, that our pot laws are doing damage to innocent people.
Someone once said to a judge, “That weed is my beer.” The judge replied, “You are an honest man.”
