Poem: This Bud’s For You

By: Catherine McGuire

budsforyou

Inside the Green Cross boutique,
white walls, clean lines of an optometrist’s
glass and steel you can’t afford us counters;
soft, sleek lamps spotlight glass cylinders,
discrete labels: Headband, Girl Scout Cookies,
Blueberry Haze. Young budistas cheerfully advise.
Each strain’s data graphed in advertising percentages;
the clients play connoisseur.
Cheap plastic baggies anathema here.
Cheech and Chong a grandparent’s joke.
Only cash is retro – still need green
for green.

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