UNDERGROUND VOICES MAGAZINE/R.C. EDRINGTON

R.C. EDRINGTON

Junkie Love

How can you be so shocked, Katrina
The only things we honestly shared
In this 6 month cliché of
“homie-lover-friend”
Barrio love affair
Where we isolated
& nearly rotted away
Like 2 lost, alien crash babies
On that blood, shit, piss, & cum
Tapestry of mattress tossed
Just like another wasted
Useless sack of flesh
In that water logged corner
Bedroom in Joe’s abandoned house
Were a few top notch
Fucks and sucks-
A few dull & dirty hypos-
& about 8 ounces
Of that cheap sugar-cut
Mexican tar.
So c’mon Katrina,
When the dope ran out-
And so did I-
I may not have returned
With prison green tattooed arms
Draped in roses,
Or those 2 silver bear claw
Engagement rings you spoke
Circles and circles about-
But fuck Katrina,
I didn’t leave you with Hep C
Or HIV either.

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