“Good for your cold,”

They claimed but didn’t

Call it voodoo soup,

No, they called it

By its ingredients,

Ginger something

Kicked with cannabis

To cure a cold that came

Earlier in the day

When one of them

Cast a curse

With but a wink

To send the message,

There would be no

Interruptions of meditation

If the sick lay dying

One bottom bunk over

And soundly sleeping
. . .
JOSHUA MUSICANT

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