Like a Pill

Food stamps can’t be sold for weed but that don’t

stop people from trying. When you buy link at half

price you can’t help but wonder if some meth-baby

ain’t getting fed but, like Mom said, you got to

swallow it like a pill.

Swallow it like dog-eat-dog, like dog bites dog

for pissing on its territory. Grandma kept a BB gun on

the porch for shooting cats. Police park at Citgo to

bust someone for a dime-bag.

I look like gutter-punk; some Dillard’s-Lady walked

into Salvation Army with her son’s Holey-

Abercrombie and they’re trying to sell it for eight

dollars. They don’t accept offers but they’re handing

out crack-mattresses at 50% off. Hallelujah

plays while my grandma pawns her rings. She should

get most of ‘em back by the first. She’s only lost a

few over the years.

The kids use the Walmart-parking-lot to get high; we

used to play bloody-knuckles, beautiful-corpse,

skipped rocks down sidewalks. Those were the good

days.