How to Roll a Joint

EDIT: This is the new version based on my first feedback, and I wanted to try seeing what I could do with it. Below this is the original version which I also like, so I'm not deleting it but you don't have to read it unless you don't want to. However the first 3 commenters were referring to that version. Not sure how to add "edits" in here.

 

Outside, maybe the world was ending,
But wildfire smoke makes lovely sunsets.

 

Inside, me and two men full on free food,
Charcoal grilled meat, beer,
Honeydew and sweet cucumber salad.

 

My other half turned on a Youtube stream
80s Brian Regan stand up routine.

 

Our friend intensely focused, Me watching him because I didn't know how.

 

He plucked 4 buds from the bag,
Stuffed the flowers forcefully
Into my rainbow colored grinder’s
Scary metal teeth.
Marveled again at how fancy it was.
Then ground the flower down.

 

Slipped a Zig Zag Ultra Thin whisp
Paper from the purple popup package
V shape, ends up on the table.
Tapped a mound of ground flower
Precisely into the crevice
Then, parcel in two hands, palms up,
Flashing wiry arms, burn scars.

 

His tongue flicked, licked thumbs
One at a time to wet the strip.
Stopped to laugh at Regan’s jokes.
Wildfire fighters hands, strong fingers fiddled,
Shifted, tucked, untucked, twiddled.

 

He stopped again: “Damn!”

 

Set the parcel down.
Pulled another paper from the package.
Held the translucent sheet to the light,
Tried to find the tiny shine, the glint of glue.
With laser blue eyes: Searchlights through fog 8 beers deep.

 

He cocked his head. He cursed again.
The crumbled green sprinkled in the new slip,
And lifted it.
Stopped to laugh again.
(Now Cameron Esposito on the screen)

 

I held my breath.

 

Tongue slick glue licked down the slip,
Folded paper over herb, tucked over, under, in,
Finally! Slowwwwwwly rolllllllled
Forward with both broad thumbs.
Sliding nimble fingers along to smooth,
Then lightly tightening the end
Open just enough to inhale.
Laid the white stick reverently on the table.

 

Breathe

 

How to Roll a Joint (original version)

 

Outside, maybe the world was ending,
But wildfire smoke makes lovely sunsets.

 

Inside, the three of us, well fed on charcoal grilled meat,
Honeydew and sweet cucumber salad, Enveloped in air conditioning.

 

My other half turned on a Youtube stream
(A 1980s Brian Regan stand up routine, mullet and all)

 

While our friend rolled a joint.

 

I passed my ornate wooden cylindrical weed box across the table: Metal rainbow grinder with kief catcher.
Tiny purple box of Zig Zag Ultra Thin rolling papers.
Cheap yellow plastic lighter.
Little clinical ziplock packs with THC and CBD percentages
Labeled clearly next to names like
Pennywise, Chocolope, Mango Kush, Wedding Cake, SCOG.

 

His wildfire fighter’s hands,
Chewed short nails, round ended thumbs, burn scars, wiry arms,
Laser blue eyes:
Searchlights through fog 8 beers deep.

 

He began.

 

He plucked 4 buds from the bag,
Stuffed the flowers forcefully
Into the sharp grinding teeth pressing them down in a sticky lump,
Pushed the toothed cap on top,
(Marveled to me about the fancy design)
Then: Grind, grind, grind, grind, grind.

 

He slipped one thin wisp half fold from the pop up Zig Zag package.
Placed it carefully on the table, ends up.
Unscrewed the bin.
Tapped a mound of ground flower
precisely into the paper crevice.
Picked up the parcel in two hands,
Palms up, thumbs ready: paused.
His tongue flicked:
Licked thumbs, one at a time to wet the strip.
(Stopped to laugh at Brian Regan’s jokes)
Then resumed to fiddle.
His fingers shifted, tucked, untucked, twiddled.
He stopped, whispered “damn!”

 

He set the parcel down.
Pulled another paper from the package.
Held the translucent sheet to the light,
Turned, turned again to find the tiny shine, the glint of glue.
Picked up the former to check, cocked his head,
Was the first one right after all?
He cursed again.

 

He delicately sprinkled
the crumbled green into the fresh new slip.
Lifted the new one gingerly with both hands.
Stopped to laugh again.
(Cameron Esposito talking about her side mullet)

 

I held my breath.

 

Tongue flicked, glue strip licked,
Folded paper over herb, tucked over, under, in,
Sloowwwwwwly rolllllled
Forward with both thumbs all the way around,
Sliding fingers along the side to glue it down,
Then slightly twisting one end tightly
Open just enough to inhale,
Laid it, reverent, on the table.

 

Breathe

 

I know this is too long and too rambly, but I'm having a hard time figuring out what is fat, and how to cut it but not lose the important feeling that I was trying to make the reader go through the experience that I went through. The experience was uncomfortably long, yet somehow really fascinating to me. Like on the one hand kind of exhausting and on the other hand I was weirdly riveted. I'm also aware that wordiness is as much a style thing as anything, so I don't want to make it a short, sharp, to the point poem either. I mean I can make a version but I feel like it loses something. So my tricky question is, how fatty can I leave it before it becomes just boring?

My feedback (I'll do more later too)

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/960q1h/the_orbweavers/e3zpbhi https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8tqz8x/lebedinaya_pesnya/e3zm232