Poem: Ode to a Clean Pipe

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My beautiful, artisan borosilicate glass,

You have recently become a huge pain in my ass.


I suck and I puff, but it’s never enough.

Your insides are all clogged with resiny stuff.


Though frustrated and huffing, I continue to try,

‘Til I’ve scorched all my weed, bringing tears to my eyes.


I poke with a toothpick and scrape with a knife,

But I still can’t get a good hit to save my life.


My sweet little pipe, my rainbow bringer of joys

The most coveted of all of my many adult toys,


Your colors are lovely; I don’t want you replaced,

But sucking so hard has given me resting bitch face.


Alas, it is time. You will have to be cleaned.

Your insides are even dirtier than they seemed.


Into some alcohol to dissolve all that goop,

So that I can smoke without inhaling that poop.


Look at you now! So clean and so fresh!

The first hit from a pristine bowl is the best.


Why did I wait so long to just clean you out?

Oh right. While you’re soaking, I go without.



For more Ladybud poetry, click here .



Photo Credit: Still-Life, Breakfast with Champaign Glass and Pipe by Jan Davidsz