September, Takoma Park

Your Heroin, Your Cocaine

Faint

The stars are clouding my vision

In a dream state tainted

I feel the hours slip by

Wasted in someone’s bed

Who can’t face days

With his aged heart

Weighted with the speed

Of barely moving

You are choosing this

When you lay

And search for the hay

Where your workhorse

Finds relief

And you rest in the belief

That it’s God

And perhaps she is

To you

You do not wonder

Whether rent is due

For this patch of floating grass

And legs that run for you

Jogging in place

Like a dog from the waist down

You forget your face

And let the silence

Laced with colors

And emptiness

Take you to where

Nothing is found

But the pleasure

Of not feeling

You’ve drowned

It is simply asked that

You pay it no mind

Letting its juice fill your rind

You don’t realize

You are asking yourself

To not think

And to just drink

A spirit you cannot truly know

But feign to name

Your own

And that is how

The void drinks you

With it’s blinking throat

Fuck this town

Of those who use the needle

And the spoon

I am marooned

In a place without a sign

I must lose the scent of pine

I used to smell

In my wakened state

Now forever asleep

I cannot keep the rewards

Of the promises I seek

But am forced to reap

What others want to sow

It’s the blow

That wakens me again

But nothing like

What children hear

In the forest through trees

All zen and wholesome

Though my own nose

Does not sniff

The snow

Making thieves of men

With coal buttons

And orange noses

I know the drift of it

A wind that goes

And does not stop

Until it leaves

Exploding and liquid

As lava

Ink from a pen

Meditating on tainted pleasure

Excitement and leisure

Distracted seizures

In one piggy snort

A contorted look

Like squirting wasabi

Into your eye

Oh hello, hi

You’re watching yourself

Cry and die

From inside a fortress

Of eternal suffering

Grinding and buffering

Lies your brain goes on

Churning the same timeworn songs

As Hunter wanted to know

Melodies that suffered

A vibration that dried the sands

Of our time

A spinning globe

The rest of us

Want the silence

Dial it down

Shield our eyes

And crave

The slow life

Bow low

Best of Both Worlds

Mix it up

The smoke is Up now

The one who said, “meow…

I can snort and stay low,”

Feels cool,

Like a pig

Evading the hot mud

A miracle of rules

Made for a fool

In love with tools

That mimic

Actual blood

Not to worry

The bud still has mind enough

To float your strokes

And is kind enough

Not to gloat

As it finds you out

Taking its clout for yours

You throw your snow out

Into a river of toking

Jokers spin your gold

As they torque their joint sticks

Forking left, then right

“Look!

It’s the baby and the bathwater

It’s the rock-a-bye treetop

It’s the lyrical music

Of health

That ‘don’t stop’ thing

She’s here for the ruse of the ring

A rooster on a rooftop

A cat on a cruising ship

Perusing captains quarters

And casting chips

She likes to dip in that hot tub

Now and then”

It has heart and mind enough

To sing you to sleep

As the grounds find you

And throw you up again

Only growing the rhymes

That keep them sane

And alive

They lend you a hand

As part of a trend

Like the last time

You jumped the flirt

Who crashed into a heap

Of living people.

She liked the dime

That you threw at her

But crawled out

Before you knew what

She meant to do with it

Your crimes elevate you

As you spit on her

Afraid of your truth

She feels subdominant

Inside your church:

A chiming bell

That tolls for you.

As you disguise yourself

As holy

Her goers leave

Her halls empty

As smoke through a window