Tag: drugs

A Dealer Calls

She flipped-into old apparitions
Then Acne-kid stood in her kitchen
with his mouth turned up high
My missus fuckin’ hates me dealin’

One word-blunt white line fixer
He’s still on to it – arf a gram
Fifty quid – No – No more for now
No point-six-measure – or nearishness

but – then – ten longer minutes later
he’ll do one (or – One more for mates)
It runs out yer nose – drips –
She fuckin’ knows I’m fuckin’ doin’ it

But Diamond Wife will not stop talkin’
I live it mate – her drunk mouth says –
One prefers a more tightened wrap –
as opposed to too-loosened stuff?

She likes ’em – those bullet capsules
with grinders
A quick-spun chamber
You’ ve not seen bullets? She hasn’t –
to laughter – You guys got my number?

Fluxus

My heated tears contain stomach acid –
piteous shit – feeling sorry for myself
having thrown my empty gut’s content
into the piss-plated Made in Italy bowl

They will not scar my face – we only fear
such long-term effects on our throats –
heightened instances of – that is enough
for now –

Sit with me as I pop my evening’s dose
of slowers and helpers – shaped as pills –
and pray they stay long enough to kick in
and get me through a night I need

I am still sucker-punched – struck as such
through this day – but needs must
so let me sleep and find a brief peace –
I am sorry Son for saying I want to end it now
It comes and goes


Hustings

Please hide a lemon
in your old man’s coat –
their tear gas is primed
but that citrus is hope –

suck on its stung flesh
as if you suck for your life
Your vote for democracy
has been long-denied

We all carry crosses
but some are not struck –
we’ll all hang our heads
Hangin’s not enough

Read widely beyond
their ruled short lists
Education is brief
’til you’re taught by the past

Zero Four Thirty

For a man who has done his natural duty,
death is as natural as sleep. GS

Here we meet again
you no longer a friend
you jolt – a waking itch
this drugged portend

This unnatural discontent
which sleep is for me
it is a sickly thing

It is as if rest itself
is my disease

It is as if my register
of a simple expectation
of a longed-for sopor
no more allows it to admit

Yet we will drift in daytime’s
impolite light
with eyelids weighted
by the night
just enough to stop me seeing things

This puzzle of so many pieces
which darkness has become
You – my new foe –
my agonist – my bedlam

E100419