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NO FORBIDDEN FLOWERS 

She turned 18 high at Woodstock
In 1969—
Peace-‘n’-love was all
She lived for then.
Janice Joplin crying,
Crying Summertime-time-time
And Joe Cocker getting by
With just a little help from friends.

She turned 33 in chemo,
Another goddamn war—
Rock-‘n’-roll and roll
A joint for pain.
Looking back on Woodstock,
How it poured and poured and poured—
She’s so glad she saved that snapshot
Of her topless in the rain.

                No forbidden flowers
                Amidst her hollyhocks.
                Just music’s magic powers
                Where the doves outlast the hawks.
                No more hidden flowers
                No calendars or clocks—
                Because time is just illusion,
                An hourglass of rocks.

She turned 50 in her garden,
The new millennium—
She wasn’t supposed to live
Past 35.
She blows a kiss to Mother Earth,
Blows a smoke ring toward the sun,
Takes another toke in Eden,
Turns her back on Father Time.

                                She’s more hopeful every morning
                                As she sings to greet the dawn—
                                Peace-‘n’-love is what
                                She’d die for now.
                                No more counting birthdays,
                                She just lives from song to song—
                                Letting all the old years go
                                Brings the young ones back around.

                No forbidden flowers
                Amidst her hollyhocks.
                Just music’s magic powers
                Where the doves outlive the hawks.
                No more hidden flowers
                No calendars or clocks—
                Because time lost all its powers
                When the sand turned back to rocks—
                Time’s only an illusion,
                An hourglass of rocks.

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