Posts Tagged ‘narrative’

smoking meth

2 pm I take a taxi over to Shelby’s place. Her X Brad is there and they are both really excited to see me. I have the money—they have the contacts
It’s time to do some serious drugs

First up brad says he knows some guy from who lives not far away
I say I want 200 worth and he heads off
Shelby and I chat—it seems that no time has passed since we met and we always get on well— but we can’t resist bitching about how long brad is taking

Finally Brad is back
I think it looks a bit light
But bugger it
Stick it in your arm it will do you no harm
he mixes up and brings out three 1 ml syringes with about twenty mills in each

He gives me a shot—I know it’s gone into the vein in my hand when I see the blood
Then comes a substantial but not transcendent head rush
I feel like my senses are more accurate
My head feels clear as glass
I’m pinging

Then we get some beers and start some serious drinking
Shelby gets a call saying she can get a good hundred from her friend Su
So the anticipation builds again—Brad is still there so in theory I could still shoot up, but I thought fuck it— I’m going smoke this shit
Su rocks up with the meth and I pay a hundred
Brad divides it up and puts my share on aluminium foil
I wait until the smoke gets thick and white then suck it up with an empty Ventolin
The smoke tastes bitter, but not unpleasant and the rush hits my brain like a runaway train
Wow smoking is as good as shooting
I feel electric surges through my whole body and my eyes open wide
After about three smokes all the meth is gone but I’m buzzing all over by this stage and my teeth are grinding
The world is infinite and crystalline and under my control
I am the Ubermensch

Then Shelby gets a call offering a point for fifty bucks
Fuck me we’re going to get even higher
In ten minutes it’s here
This time I smoke it through a proper crack pipe
No thick white smoke is wasted and soon I feel like I’m towering over the universe at hyper-speed
My eyeballs are popping out of my head and my jaw is moving
I think I’ve had enough.

Get off my case!

Posted: February 27, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , , ,

‘Hey you fat piece of shit, I’m going to beat your head in!’
If I could pull my head between my shoulders I would;
My heart winds up its tempo.
There is no-one else around and the creature in the red shirt is behind me.
‘Hey fat shit did you get a stick from Sam’s place?
Hey fat boy I’m talking to you!
Are you trying to follow me?’
‘Leave me alone!’ I shout.
I run into the bottle-shop with my breath a stuttering torrent,
I walk to the end of the aisle and pick out a six-pack of Little Creatures pale ale,
Then I approach the counter and say to the girl behind it:
‘That guy in the red shirt, he’s threatening and insulting me. I’m scared.’
Outside he glowers, looking thin, hungry and crazy.
I suspect he’s a speed freak – he has that hollowed out look.
An old guy behind the counter asks:
‘What’s going on here?’
I repeat myself.
Then the old guy leaves to talk to the guy in the red shirt, who is edging ever closer to the bottle-shop.
The girl behind the counter asks me why he is hassling me.
‘Because I’m fat,’ I say.
The saddest truth of all- ponderous and obvious.
I leave through the adjoining supermarket, crossing aisles to get distance behind me.
I exit the store and cross over the car-park, catching a freeze-framed picture of the old guy and my bully still talking.
I cross over the road and make the train station,
Free at last!
Thank-you God of the Angel Armies!
The train arrives and try to forget it all but I cannot.
It will not, will not fade into the mush of yesterday: bad news written in permanent marker.
Turn the other cheek, but when in doubt run away!