revised

i burn experience like tobacco

in this small bone pipe.

i try to keep some for later

try to quell the need for more.

substitute weed but it doesn't satisfy
just increases desire  

i'm not saying i quit. i'm modifying my intake

i'm managing my addiction, i'm giving into temptation

because my won't power has the upper hand.

i burn experience like incense

smokey, slow, stinky.

swing it back and forth in a censor

to cloud the outcome

and confuse the congregation.

i've heard them all, all the stories,

behind the glass screen. forgive them father
for you left home when they were mere tots.

most of the things that would make good stories

i had to forget, or i couldn't look
people in the face again.

i wish they'd let us burn weed again. i think it would help

with the collections plate. or the concession stand

i can't remember if i'm at church or a quidditch game.

*()()*

i burn experience like shell oil in elijahland.

i burn experience like american flags in baghdad

i burn it like fields of poppies in kabul, like vietnamese jungles

my experience is napalm , my burn is nagasaki.

i burn experience like looters in ferguson,

 like cops with tear gas 

i burn experience like fukushima burns the sea.