A Nebraskan Visits Colorado

By Craig Pugh

 

I told my Ma and I told my Pa I’m tired of this here Omaha.

Denver, Denver is the show. That is where I want to go.

They got legal weed out there people say is beyond compare.

 

Ma and Pa said “Have you lost your mind? Stay away from it!”

 

I replied: “Are you kidding me? Have you ever tried that shit?

It’s fantastic. Lifts your spirits, calms your nerves, helps you

through life’s tight curves.” Ma and Pa just wrung their hands and

cried: “Oh boy of ours. We thought we raised you to know better!”

 

Then they really sounded the alarm. Pa said: “Sonny Boy, we only

want joy for you but at this minute we’ve got chores to do and

you’re needed on the farm. Once we get the corn crop in we

figured you’d drive to Lincoln and Husker-up with Go Big Red!

 

I just shook my head. Lincoln? I remember from history that he

famously debated Horace Greeley who said: “Go West young man.”

I told this to my parents and said they couldn’t restrain me with a lariat,

ending with: “Don’t worry. I’ll come back. If I don’t I’ll write you a letter.”

 

Walked out to Interstate Eighty on my thumb, got a ride with a fellow

cannabis pilgrim driving from Missouri. He said: “I’m headed to Denver

to smoke me some good weed” to which I replied: “Amen, Brother,

that’s what we need!” He had a joint and I had one, too; and after we

smoked ‘em up I shut my eyes for a few and I woke up in Denver town.

 

Man oh man, smell that mountain air! Smells like skunk buds

everywhere. Walked into my first shop. Oh my God. Now I know

what heaven looks like. I thought I was in the jungle though because

a Grape Ape got all in my business, claiming he was king of all the

cannabis sativas. He picked me up and threw me down and when

I hit the ground a White Rhino let out a blast of THC and ran over me.

 

When I came to I ate a banana. But it was kush. And I won’t beat around

the bush. That Banana Kush kicked me in the touché. The tangerines

were no better. They put me in a Tangerine Haze, which was a really

dreamy Neptunian phase of chilling out with little cupids flying about.

 

Next place featured Sour Tsunami, which was great for my anxiety

but in all honesty it rolled right over me. I held my breath and shut my

eyes as it took me down in a very deep dive but then it was like whoa –

I began seeing things I didn’t want to see. I told myself: By thunder!

 

Don’t let that tsunami drag you under! And when I crawled out I was

on Maui Wowie, a tropical island topped with pineapple candy and

a bouncy, creative high. I ain’t lying: I thought that was fine and dandy.

 

But then I went a step too far when I took a hit of Death Star, which

shot me past the moon and Mars and put me floating in space with

asteroids and shooting stars. That was a bit much for me. I’m content

to watch the galaxy through a telescope, which is what I hope to do

 

once I get over my ferocious buzz because I ended up in a crystal palace

where garden gnomes gave away free ice-cream cones topped with

capitate-stalked trichomes. I also ran into a Purple Alien. I thought he was

a fine fellow I could be friends with but that freaky-freak notched me to

the bow of Sagittarius who shot my arrow into a delirious place in my head.

Pineal gland? Brain stem? Cerebellum? Dunno. I’m no neurosurgeon.

 

I then thought I ought to get earthbound with edibles. Gummi bears and

chocolate? Sure, I like that stuff. But those edibles were just too incredible.

My head ended up in a washing machine set on spin cycle. That was when

I threw the towel in. Bottom line? I just wanted to get back to Nebraska:

 

good ol’, solid ol’, boring-ass Nebraska. Now I’m back home smoking gack

weed and watching corn grow. No, it’s not Denver, and it’s not fun, but I

do sit in Omaha wondering how people in Colorado get anything done!