Just bought snowin' from a dope-vend guy;
tracks from stick-ins, scabs they grow.
Tool: spike barrel filling up to apply
a poke; next, in arm flex ’twill go.

Send it up the nose could work, but I’ve dictated, “no”—
might cause sneezing out the white.
Spiky shot is the line I will toe,
the tine imparted deep, just right.

It’s a bad habit, I must say
but brings me lots of joy, though woodies it allays.
And muddled in that vial, the reason why
I will be pain-free…rolling back are my eyes.

Oh no! This is more than a little daze.
There was fentanyl in it too!!
I won’t, though, be dead;
my time won’t come this day…
Narcan’s spritzed in by you.


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