Opioid eyes

Wretched the poor,
the vermin and the parasites,
the ruined humans
in dilapidated houses
clinging
to the edge of being wood.
In foul existence,
and maggot numbers
they are carrying the fever of being nought
for none.

Yet in every opioid pair of eyes
in every pinprick pupil burns a past
of bright-eyed childhood.

Margret gives us pictures at toads to use as springboard for poetry. I have stolen some words from Bleak House… (the description of Tom-all-Alone’s).

October 26, 2017

19 responses to “Opioid eyes

  1. This is outstanding, from title to close.

    You’re so right. It’s gross to be clingy and needy and on drugs. I am totally one of these bright-eyed madhouse kids wishing she could fit in with society but knowing she just can’t. Still, some of those people are pretty fucking interesting …

  2. I like the way the poem turns after the longer stanza, Bjorn, giving some comfort. But oh, those opioid eyes!
    One minor thing, the plural of vermin is vermin.

  3. Ah, so true … so sad and true … that thought often comes to mind as we drive through Vancouver’s east end. In August, of this year, we had 113 suspected drug overdose deaths – up 79% from the same period last year – and rising.

  4. So sad such a squalid present and future. A disgusting one. But the past is clear and bright despite eyes that are drugged and seeing things, avoiding the real, The here and now for the goodness that once was.

    Well written 🙂

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