Opiates and Gods

I

I sit with Gabriel beset
By powder drifting to the nose,
And leaning back with cigarette
We sink… forget… the drugs bestow

The light of god from golden thrones,
As gently father pulls the nails
To heal my wounds and still my groans;
His powder loans respite from wails.

That eucharist is shed for me
In dust he grinds from angels’ wings,
A line is cut by his decree
And sets me free, the high now springs.

 

II

I sit with Anubis beset
By powder drifting to the nose,
And leaning back with cigarette
We sink… forget… the drugs bestow

A master’s skill to mask these pains.
His bloody hands remove my heart,
With it her memory remains
And slowly stains as organs part.

With linens drawn around my flesh,
My god embalms with soothing highs;
In living death no longer thresh
Feel peace refresh in her demise.

 

III

I sit with Morpheus beset
By powder drifting to the nose,
And leaning back with cigarette
We sink… forget… the drugs bestow

The waters Lethe o’er my woes,
And just below the surface held
By Hades’ hand and soft repose;
The wilted rose of pain dispelled.

Was it Hecate’s voice that spoke
And made this veil of gentle peace,
Or Morpheus who sang a cloak
That fell and broke with sweet release?

 

Envoi

My crawling skin, desire’s flame;
Before the opiate I bow
And with all loyalty proclaim,
Devoid of shame, this solemn vow—

With endless joy, I’ll dance with them,
Those placid shades that seldom dance.
The only ones that ne’er condemn,
But cut a gem of perfect trance.

 

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