I’ll tell you this.
the last time I burned rock in the glass dick
they found me in a Santa suit walking up and down Military Trail
throwing bags of shit at cars and reciting Kierkegaard outloud.
I woke up in the drunk tank
in Hallandale Beach Florida
next to a Cuban tranny
who was urinating in my hair entertaining the other men.
the addiction you have
is replaced with the addiction to God.
The Twelve Steps.
A higher power.
I don’t know what’s worse
living in the suburbs paying bills and clocking in and out of a state job
mowing your lawn every Friday
taking the kids and wife to the mall
snapping family portraits and sending them to grandma
or putting in a 12-hour shift on the kill floor of an abattoir
taking hits of whiskey during breaks
and smoking meth at happy hour.
(“oh how men suffer for children.”)