It forms in many places
and has so many flavors
each place scented out differently
as the sun lowers down
and the moisture grows thick
combining with the various narcotics
to form the dreaded "Drog"
a narcotic laced pollution cloud
that surrounds certain places now.
I hate that it exists
and I must navigate it
seeking eddies of untainted airs
to move within until crossing
the smoky rapids and roils
seeking a narrow safe strait
where I can pass by
and remain untainted to tests
that employers and others administer.
Drug and Fog like smog
gathered up where I live
not by choice but circumstance
condemned to it by lack
of gainful employment and funds
something I will not miss
once I leave this place
but am sure to find
another flavor of out there.
Sometimes the pot is heavier
others its "Spice" or "Spizzle"
crack taints the air also
or some nights its meth
that seeks to gather all
into their deadly, dark embrace
condemning us all to Hell
of guilt by mere association
having breathed the tainted air.
This is the total truth
it will always be around
not that I wish that,
and will never be dispersed
by any gale or hurricane
for longer than the moments
until the junkies light up
seeking another rush after disaster
or just to pass time.
The Drog is my bane
and that of many others
curse we live amid reluctantly
and something that clings foully
like lice or other infestations
amid the homeless and yet
not just an affliction limited
to we transients any more
but feed by damned addicts.
Holding breath, I forge ahead
seeking to get safely inside
not that such improves things
for Clean Air Acts fail
to anticipate the potheads behavior
in which that single toke
even if inside a building
is more important by far
than the breath others take.
(4May2012 - Dyfedd Rex)
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