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roxies, rufis, bars, addies, zola  tramis, whiskey,  sneeze

hyrdro hydra hydro morpho, opie condone codon wheeze

ambien ambien ½ ambien sleep


3 hours later, normal 60 mgs and tea, tame

Whiskey, water, addies, tramis, dab and concerta feed

Cinnabun, ½ gram smack in the vein, redeemed

Coffee, caffeine, whiskey, sneeze,

Concerta, inserta

½ gram back in the in the vein

Tame, lame, sneeze,

Stil can’t sleep bizarre


Not  at peace, insane membranes

Valve spilling, hospital too far, gram in the spoon

On the floor, thai white not tar, man on a mission

Leaving me to cook in the kitchen

Good house keepin, for a stray

mixin it up to keep up to keep mixin it

Down, fixin it up

No apron, strings attached, Sundays only  a day away

Isn’t it?,morph time,  get it together, its fine, shrug

Tramis, dab, facebook post, social roast, spit, spat

Maybe some more smack

Or a snack

Cinnabun, Chernobyl fun?, caffeine whiskey elvis mug

3 duragestic patches left, fact,  he’ll kill me when he’s back

But he’s away, he left me alone, freezing in this sunny cold

Fuck him, I hear me say, I’m a brave, I’m not afraid, I’m still awake

Dstv’s bad

I’m scatching that wound tonight, I’mma sleep, good? For good, no more fight,  turn off the light

good night?



stuey 6

I left everything to the last two minutes, burden those others – fuck sorting my shit out finished, little bit of rough riding it starts getting tough, pull it back for a second. Police making my mom scared, why is your daughter holding 180 grams of subutex? Why she got a syringe? Where’s the heroin? <duh> Why is your daughter scarred, why is your daughter high, why is your daughter shy to speak she got something to hide? Dude, people get high people get caked we’re floating on a thread, no sir nothing makes sense, I’m not a dealer i’m a care giver sitting on the fence. Shareline Crisis out shopping inopportune cause josie not in the building this afternoon, oh hello is that that claire girl again, ffs I’ll be right there. What you on you you got so much energy my dear says the the bemused face behind the white beard, sucking on an electronic cigarette british dialect staring at my tits. This defective side bob, scolex style blow job, two hundred rand in hand, dialing the numbers to the man, a gram with an owe to the ou at the other end of the phone to the other end of the street to meet, quicker than the old man comes we greet, exchange, kiss on the cheek. The road lights retreat, home, bed, spoon, water, heat, dream 1 dreaming of dream 2 it seems i might have two left feet

Scot opening closed windows cause yr room fucking stinks of cigarettes, are jelly beans innocuous toxins or is it the other way around? I asked his girl one time by some skate park whiteness, outside here there’s always a bakkie, this one filled with kids from his passion project at jeppe’s. Its a habit and a past time, me not feeling cold is mine. I grew up as most girls do where risk is not offered, thats why these girls grow up listening and acting like yella wolf man, how pleased to spread before those weeds, unsmoked strangled disseminated seeds,
the script for tonight– the left over hanger on, there’s always that guy in the group, with a beard, a stink and a grubby tie on, going in, unzipping handbags, hiding places, rifling through your cupboards, just checking that you got no more left here, the phone’s on the floor, the number now lost, he just shattered my screen his temper he’s fucked…he woke me up before I go goed, the bottle of scotch scot left before he left after we left to go our seperate ways, bet we’ll see them again in one or two days, they’ll be back they always creep in, untie the scarf, use the knife ,there’s no room for escape just the one I live in – this needle is fucked it scars with its prick, i’ve known enough pricks to scar me for life, all the stories he’s told are made up, i’m made up, we’re not going anywhere, he’s cute, he’s tall, he fucks like a dog in heat, he screams like a child without a sweet, I give and give again but no relief, the powers off, the gas is gone, there’s no heat. Meltdown in arlington street, meltdown in main street, meltdown in albany street, melt that shit down all over these sheets. i’m a gift, us women we all are, give a black man a bitch to lay his hands/ his dick on, i say vultures you say culture, i mean come on..Posters kids put up get torn down again, eighteen months later and the same shit cycles again, backlogged statistics mounting up again, downgraded intelligence spouts again, revelations reporting intercepting on course again, of course courses make everything right again, read another internet blog back out again, contact with family fucks out again, boys at the rank on form again, smack back to crack not kat again, expected Tech centred ostracised again, only redemption is this prism purse opens again, no significant slack just shut out again, so shoot up again, fuck them all all over again. Fuck myself up even more, the past wins again, engrams ingrained, sarcastic sighs in re train, jane on the phone again, mishandled handling handled again, again no sex straight bi or les

are jelly beans innocuous toxins, I think you’re weird she says

its a lot more than pulling yourself together; its pulling yourself apart, 20 sec’s lapsed, deal back – the going rate then was 190 sec flat, mind adjustingly numbing, legs spread, warm bed hugging, keepon rhythm rhyme humming, there’s no reason for rhyme say something, can’t say, the people’s recession is out shouting, looking down on them freaking that’s me upper cut outing … no right press hikes for the likes of us, we’re the chosen ones coming , we can command, demand dominate every day doubting,
I hated red wine then I heard his steps down the corridor while i lay alone frozen, the bottle in the fridge, we crack this bitch open now the blood spilleth over I can taste me on my lips, keep blinking the abyss. fall in love with the feel spluttering
then another dude in a grey suit steps out of the blue and black into my world, we’re all here to play, you must obey the command say yeah and the game resumes, my dear, process the procedure once again, I agree with the rules monsieur, my knee’s no more hurting but my mind keeps blacking out, its scary, I keep 1.1ing , are these creatures real or are they just in my mind I keep shouting, reality’s not something, the world is an alarming rock of nothing but prisoners stuck in rebirth, you got to move fast, to keep you outrunning, no stealing fire, no wasting time with ire, satan is the answer just twist the meaning wiser, make more light lightning – sympatico now fighting
ive always been on the edge of the verge stumbling, now they’re offering celestial brightening, feel those waves everyone’s a spirit that didn’t behave pave the way to another plane, bridge ride humbling…ultra violence mksilencing

do you have a question?
I am the lost problem, the snared fox frightened by gunshots off the highway, I smell of dope…apparently, I don’t I’m full of atrovent inhalers without my name on the label. I’m abused, confused, attacked. I’m shot I’m done with shooting, I’m not.
I slink in through the front door, hiding my blood stained hands, the stink of chemical breath off my lips is about all I can stand. I’m supposed to grow up, forget, but I can’t. I’m stuck, I’m struck, I’m tough, I’m not.
I read in the mercury just yesterday on page three, that I’m in the 2% that have paid pure service to the boys at the rank 60 grand, 10 months, I’m trapped, I’m thanked, I’m an angel only because they can’t pronounce my name. I”ve got a gat colt rail then I got three more, 92fs and a m4, thats the deal
I don’t want to sleep I want to just feel
Alive I hide hundreds and punctures
My uri Gellar shelf is a montage
Monarchist injunctures
Whilst the sirens gradually yell
I sleep in discomfort,

I;ve lost 4 paragraphs to space , salo in seconds, I played with the thought last night, inferno on my arms, lost all my charms to this cheap thrill, so not cheap so not lost, so not thrilled


forgetting to remember

forgetting to remember

… remember that story before the glass slips brain slips..its happening again, liquid distraction, thank you, fuck you bless you for that delivery… Autumn is heroin. For me its the epitome of my most prominent memories with the drug. The mist, the light, the leaves, the wind, the chill in the bones so easily solved. Belushi ‘don’t take shit from anyone’ echoes off old pages of music magazines, which brings me back to that room, and the dealer outside the window throwing rocks up at us and belushi was on the laptop screen and there their bottlenecks and my spoon and a heater and so much warmth in the quasi designed starkness but that was on the other side of town, and its saturated grey and autumn again and the walk in cupboard where I preferred to shoot up in, and their being no more need for vitamin c because we’re in Thai town now and the fuzz of the beachfront and the otheryou telling me about hiv and the otherme that floods apartments and hotel rooms and petrol stations and perceptions and knocks on your door at 3am with 3 friends with 3 bags and 3 beating hearts that need a room and a space to just, won’t be a second bro, thank you so much dude you won’t believe what just happened tho, there’s always cops, there’s transport nightmares, puking on corners, fuck it excuses there’s then another excuse for the abuse and you just ignore the vibe, push the other three aside, hit his toilets and hide.
Mattress basing, how low can you sink, i’ve taken plain rides to the other sides in a 3 minute black out rat poison motherfucking track tracing the cold changes the veins, won’t shoot in my neck again then again then again, fuck it there it is. John stewart has been on the whole day, sabc 2 don’t cut it round here can’t remember anything they’ve said, zean knocks at the door: are you dead?
Tantrem’s all in a rage, I just jumped the psych ward 4 mins down the road 2 weeks after cannes, keep forgetting second chances again.
Again blood on the hotel carpets I’m told I must pay floor getting kicked off another ‘chance’ I haven’t paid for, fuck them all just fuck them all, this run is too easy, got money don’t have money I don’t even have to pay for.
Oding on the 8th floor, oding on the first floor, oding on the ground floor oding on the second floor the third floor the sixth floor the 19th floor, oding oding, the floor the floor always the floor, getting fucked on the floor, getting off the floor, finding powder on the floor bags in the corner, under the sink, the toilet lids, the basin hids, the mirror, the three bloody ties behind the bathroom door, you can taste yourself in your mouth before your jaw breaks and you get off the floor and dont answer the door, another lame metaphor
cape ivs call it spikkie, old timers call it neds, white dudes downtown jack black jack dudes won’t use needles, they smoke hold your hand in instead. We’re being thrown out again, so we’re back in his mansion again, no fun anymore, weezles creep up for more, graffitti jokes, french blokes, russian blokes pull out vodca hidden in cases, I recognise this guy’s face’s from berlin, he saw me tap dancing outside the mandela hotel, can’t hide this shit no more, no more reason why, peters high, thomas on my arm, the gates remain open, i’m not used to this heroin, too slimy too dark, its not tar there’s no road there’s no bridge, I wake up on a ledge in a pool looking for more works On the sand for sunrise, at war with the mystics, thinking back to my durban beachfront, berea centre, esplanade rides shooting up by myself arms fucked under my shirt, nerves shot, hands numb smiling inside. I used to rule the world comes on, no one notices the coldplay till its too late, it’s too late we all get it, we got it, we’re gettimg it forgetting it refusing to remember it but there’s so much more to tell, vuse passes me a half a gram for real, I got 3 meetings and a script to sell, fireworks.

I still really like to score, the score in the wound, driving for hours in the city, revisiting, slowing down driving off, ducking round, how many Esplanade lights have sat me in the drivers seat, bent soup spoon in hand westbound
how many times have I sat in Albany streets crack houses, so tired, so wired, nothing but daggers on the inside, paranoid checking the windows for cops below, my clamped tires, nevermind it will be alright, just past that smoke i’m expired
Petrol attendent knows my plate, says babe its late, says i’ll be right back, comes back, hand him 2 2s, swop for the toot, swop for the bupes, swop for the bruise, hit the toilet, rank stank, gangplank, one step junk, jump, dive, shoot, dive, suvive
how many times have I been lost in Embo, screaming down the phone, telling drunk dudes to leave me alone, travelling down unknown dark roads, seeing township folk tableaus, khat, smack, skyf, sugars, so hoity toity so not dirty yet shooting up nyope
Church is ripe with an evening service, workers and shirkers drink quarts on the corners, waves from the white guy in the toyota hilux, pick up the phone and pretend not to notice, Skeet appears in the rearview mirror, jumps in, drops packets and exits
14 dealers in a 10k radius, I congratulate myself for this supercilious web of comfort I weaved, I move like a fiend, i’m a scabrous queen, no friends now they’re weaned, now they’re apparently clean, now most are od.’ I got 3 more straws, think fuck it all, I still really like to score.



two little words that mean so much to me

even this morning

staring at illusions on the beach

rocks sinking into mirrors

sinking down down into that

ice cold abyss that surely

awaits our tepid blood and

unreliable bodies

we don’t

we don’t believe your supposed


we don’t believe your self

inflicted detachment

we dont

we don’t believe that you will never write a good line again

but that was before the 10111 call

there’s this girl turning blue on our balcony

they apparently said

flashing lights

naloxone then red

all my heroes are changing clothes

who they are now

none of us knows

they’re taking photos of me

they’re taking photos of you

whatever -we write

no matter

we do

its strange that all i will leave behind

is these words

funny little words

funny little squiggles on a page

no house, no kids, no legacy, no business, no car, no riches, no regrets

just these funny little words

will be left

standing on the balcony last night

i let that warm sane narcissism wash over me

surrendered to its charms

if change is better than a holiday

then proverbs are better than psalms

the grass the sand this bed is cold

just like my skin

though all four have small beads of perspiration to remind what

warmth will feel like again

pretend for as long as it takes

thats what i tell myself this morning

after a good five hours of knocked out sleep

nay i am deluded

i can pretend as much as i can abstain

my drinking is way  off the charts

i’m embarrassed to tell the nurse

half a bottle of brandy, a bottle of vodca

a Spier savignon blanc, jagermeister shots and two spins

a few hits of the pipe, two shots to the arm

at least i finally passed out, i tell her with a grin

i never actively engage with any work that i do

work is like a foreign city

barely visible through the clouds

through the fumes of burnt bodies

there lies work

and i must remain detached and celestial

or face those very real consequences

and there is no honour in being burnt

weed makes me write

smack makes me right

i spent hours telling my stories to their blank faces

and they wonder why i’m scarred from the outside in

one more shot in the right arm is all thats left

i surmise

scary hands resting in front of me

the veins have gone underground

into hiding

tired i’m sure of the relentless hammering

of blunt needles

i try and trace those lines

up my arms under the ink

through the inside of the elbow

yellow and blue

punished and bruised

all for a ride to the insane plateau


and boo!