With all the new laws being passed,
And always being somewhat of an adventurer,
With a degree in Botany and farmers as ancestors,
As well as murderers,
Both parents being huge potheads,
She decided to grow her own.
Her strain called Mantoid,
After the insect that consumes its mate.
She smiles when she says it, stoned or not.
She feels like an astronaut,
Trailblazing the Cosmos without leaving Earth,
A flavor, a taste, a high, she’d kill for.
The plants grow from strategically cracked skulls.