White pill,

sexy mo,

keep me going,

who needs the blue triangle

it only gets wasted on sex,

white pill,

crumbled down,

beats the thought of Ginsberg’s

heroin in the eyes,

don’t need to be high

to write down thoughts,

just lucid

enough to care that it is right.

White pill,

no other beast for me,

white pill,

my liver is fine

and counteracted by the fire

that still rages in my heart

and soul,

white pill,

chalk dust memories

with absolutely

no fucking thrill.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016