Hashish … The Hotel Venus in Old Delhi, 1975.

Freshly bathed & shivering

in the cool weak sunlight

of the early morning

the boy returns

to his bed,

the quiet young couple

who sleep gently nearby,

prepare their first

sweet smoke

of the morning

as a string is drawn

back & forth inside

the chillum pipe

to clean it,

& then the hashish is warmed

so as to soften it before  

it's crumbled & mixed

with the tobacco from

a broken cigarette

kneaded in the

palm of the hand,

a small stone is placed inside

to anchor the mix yet

leave room for air

to flow & then

a damp rag is

wrapped around

the narrow end

to cool the smoke,

the woman holds the pipe

quite intricately it seems

to you at first but it's just

to create a space

so as to draw the

mix deep into

her lungs,

"Bom Siva Shankar"

intones the man as

she places her mouth

upon the joined hands

and draws that first

fiery draught

of purest black

Afghani hashish.

The chillum circulates

& the day has begun

as the youth of a

rejected Western World

envelop themselves

in the smell of dung

fires, incense, &

the Krishna chant

from the small

idol at the

corner

nearby.