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Rat Dove

Rat Dove
 
Ever seen the face of a junky?
I mean a true junky
not the kind you see walking down east Broadway at noon
but the kind you find past out dead on the beaches of Coney at dawn

The kind of junky so far gone that it seems their soul has already died some twenty hits ago

Ever seen that kind of face,
that dead beaten face which knows no love for nothin’
‘cept words of H, O, M, and P


Do you know the scene
the scene of the fifteen year old girl who looks more like forty five
slumping down on some fuck who probably is forty five
doin’ so just to get a break on a cut

Do you know what I mean when I say she just sipped for a clip?

Have you ever known what to when that slumped girl stumbles past deader than dead
more broken than a damned soul when she falls into you and you see
you see those eyes, eyes like ice, nothin’ driving nothin’ behind
you see all this just before you see the putrid needle
the syringe sticking prone out of a vein
more toxic than a New York rat dove

I didn’t know what to do

Not even when she fell off me
continuing her slow float to the center of the dance floor
the floor thats more like a tribal pit of sexual Ecstasy, a fucking
cesspool filled to its brim of every type ‘n brand of traffic

I, lost of vision and concern for her
until the music cut,
as the crowd
spreads
circles


Flashing lights


Lights normally signifying a night of bliss lasting only as long as whatever you took will give
or maybe long enough past that point if your lucky enough to find a bird clean enough to fly with
not these lights, not this night, not this drug, not that bird
Posted 12/01/09
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