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The White Undertaker


Alice C. Bateman

I smoke and I hate it

So help me to quit

Don't make me resent you

By bitching a bit


Why do they sell them?

I scream at the ashtray

Why do I smoke them

Day after day?


They sell them in drugstores

And restaurants and bars

And bus stations where

We can't smoke anymore


These little white tubes

All laden with cancer

Guilt and denial

Pursue the smoke dancer


So legalize pot

And give us a break

Pile your taxes on that

For all of our sakes


A medicinal herb

Used by healers for ages

Taboo of a sudden?

This is outrageous!


I'd rather that I could

Inhale Mother Nature

Than machine-made smooth death

The White Undertaker

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