Pipe an Abecedarial Poem of Pot (Incomplete)

  

“Some like it in the pot…nine days old”

                 -- from “Pease Porridge Hot” first recorded in John Newbery’s “Mother Goose’s Melody” (c. 1760)

Most folks love a hit of pot, new census surveys hold.
While some prefer a hybrid pot – say, Acapulco Gold --
some others choose Afghani Wonder. (They dig dope that’s bold.)
And some – those cursed with budget woes – have stopped pot-smoking cold.

Some opine, “Pot should be free! Like welfare money: doled.”
Enfeebled folk claim med concerns; in programs they’re enrolled.
Freethinkers wish pot legal: such a state’s been long foretold.
Girls smoke Passion #1 – aka Amstel Gold.

He would buy his on the fly, while me? I like to hold.
Ice Queen’s sold by Ms. Isolde – mispronounced ‘Isold.’
Jim (that’s me!) shops Dr. Greenthumb: Jim smokes J.J.’s Gold.
Known philosophes smoke Killa Kush. That stuff will knock you cold.

Lotus-Eaters smoke a strain produced in wet leaf mold.
Mom prefers hers grown (she says) in peat, a mother’s mold.
And no one who’s not no one knows that pot is now extolled.
(They know, as well, that cannabis concerns are oversold.)

People busted yesterday, today should be parolled
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