Stewart
Brisby
Poet/Writer
| JUNKIE GIRL |
| all the pain is over
now you feel the warm warm glow all the problems now are gone that were here a moment ago it started out as just a game but no one would you heed they said the game would turn on you become a driving need you think of mom her smiling eyes as you rifle through her purse no one told you with a little time the becomes a curse you clean and stash your tools of trade you stash them oh so neat carefully stash the tools of trade that put you on the street the pain returns you feel the need you thought it had gone away but it swoops down poised to kill just like a bird of prey you close your eyes and pray like hell for god to hear your pleas but god can’t hear you little girl with your head between your knees what would you do if you could see ahead would you run or laugh or cry if you knew this was the final shot just before you die they call your name there’s no response they give you a gentle prod but you can’t hear them junkie girl for this is your final nod. her smiling eyes |
Stewart Brisby
(from Urinating In The Pool © 1974)