Apples and Pears

     Books are my marijuana

films are my cocaine

     art is acid to me

when I feel the pain.

I pity myself in circumstances

   I grieve for others despair

and where heroin is needed when

  I  couldn’t give myself to care.

          All my life I’ve dance

 equivalent to meth on a high wire of hair,

        racism and homophobia kills me,

   a roar of injustice heard everywhere.

When music begins to play

     like taking three ecstasy with a bottle of wine

and then to succumb myself with more temptations,

    how hard they are to be declined.

       

       Could I still function clearly?

           although all around would agree

you haven’t live until you try this

      but my addiction is to live free.

Reviews

[Amy Tao]

Your writing, as ever, is really good