He said, “One hit, I’m good.” He wasn’t. WHY IS YOUR COUCH GIVING A TED TALK? He hit the joint like it owed him cash Three minutes later he was speakin’ in trash He asked the toaster for career advice Then hugged a cactus and said “This feels nice.” He bowed to the ottoman, praised the light Tried to do math with a fork — not right He stared at a napkin like it knew his fate Then slow-danced solo with a paper plate I blacked out — woke up in a Jell-O ad Your rug said “Run,” so I ran real bad The wall asked me “What's your deal?” Then the blender whispered, “Time ain’t real.” Your goldfish told me I'm a ghost Then your cat demanded I make toast I tried to pee but the sink said “No.” Now I gotta pay rent to your shadow (The broom called me “Chad the Wise!”) (You recited vows to a box of fries) Your goldfish told me I'm a ghost Then your cat demanded I make toast I tried to pee but the sink said “No.” Now I gotta pay rent to your shadow My weed? It ain't for tourists (I just confessed to a stack of churros) He argued with my Roomba twice (Then sued your air conditioner — for “ice”) He offered legal aid to my spoon Then claimed "the couch just sang a tune." My friend’s weed? (Certified odd.) Now the couch hosts a self-help pod. I wore your lampshade like a crown Gave a TED Talk to a paper towel breakdown Said “I AM BEANS” to your TV And tried to Venmo the concept of “me” I typed a poem with just my nose Told a mirror I’m “the chosen rose” I panicked, bowed to a kitchen drawer Then lost my name to a hardware store He gave the dishwasher a personality quiz Then cried when it said “You’re just… mid.” He called my plunger his “mystic staff” Then belly-flopped into a bubble bath He screamed “Forks before spoons!” on my street Then made a sculpture out of raw lunch meat He asked my freezer “What is self?” Then joined a cult of IKEA shelves (I fused with your couch and saw the divine!) (You wept when the fridge said “You’ll be fine.”) (Your rug just… called me “Greg.”) (That rug don’t lie, man. That’s your leg.) My weed? It opens wormholes (I held a séance with your egg rolls!) He complimented my Wi-Fi signal Then got engaged to a lint triangle He gave a eulogy to the spice rack And passed a bill to “ban flashbacks” My friend’s weed? (A lifestyle brand) Now the couch is signed to a band. Your couch just made eye contact… and said “We need to talk.” If it offers you a podcast slot, say yes. It’s got a good mic and a loyal chair audience. My weed breaks souls in style (I just gave your blender a child!) You told the smoke “I trust you now” (Then kn knighted your couch as “Mooch McPlowww”) dec lared war on the kitchen scale And asked the toaster to post bail My friend’s weed? (Too vast. Too woke.) Now the couch teaches quantum smoke. “Did your microwave… just tell my secrets?” “Yup. And it said you’re late on couch rent.”
