Junk Prayers

Hail! Five dollar dilaudid
Full of filler!
The pockmarked Blonde
is with me!
Superior are ye amongst opiates
And blessed is the Kingdom
When it comes. 
Jeez! Holy cow!
Kissing the heavenly
Slide or the stairs - 
The supreme rocket rush 
Blows back all cares.

I miss you, Phoria:
Tainted with mechanical
The warm itch rarely
Mining the golden vein
Is a dangerous proposition,
yet swallowing them
A crime.
There is no time.
We dig the ditches
We raise the flag,
And pray for continued breath
Sweeter than
Any other kind of
Communion with heavens

The maker of the phone lines
That open communication 
To the other side,
Rhodes, (ph)farms the junkies
For insurance money
And glad we are for it. 
Blessed are the pill mills
The junkie nurses
And the dodgy doctors
With the keys to the 
Gates of Heaven,
Or at least the meds safe 
On the second floor.
Blessed are unprovable
Bad backs and
Blessed are the rich in $$$
And medical insurance
For they will never have to kick.
Blessed are the junkies
For their needs are simple.
Blessed is the blonde who
Do not know the value of a
Blessed are the grannies
Who think that taking their
Own scripts is an exercise
In 'silly'. 
Blessed are those that get well
And those that get sick. 
Blessed are those that toss
In 50 cents into the days'
Drug pool.
Blessed are those who pass by.
Blessed are those who shed a tear
And cry. 
Blessed are the straight, because
Someone has to be. 
Blessed are the speed freaks
For they stay awake
Eyeing the narcan
And slapping drooling
Blessed is Patti Smith
Lou Reed
And Syd Barrett
Who knew the value of
Numb and outspoken.
Blessed is the memory
Of the tarred feathery 
Ghost of diamorphine
On the West Coast.
Blessed is the monkey
Marmoset and ape. 
Every road leads to the sea
And just another simian
With a grip of steel - 
One for you
And one for me. 

I have but one plea:
Have mercy on us
Now, and at the hour of
Every little death. 

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