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“The first time I found my brother
overdosed, he looked holy. A thing
not to be touched. Yellow halo of last
night's dinner. His skin, blanched blue
fresco: Patron Saint of Smack. A Cop,
flustered, tugged up his shorts, plunged
a needle into his pale thigh. He hissed
awake like a soda can. The paramedic
spoke slowly in his ear like a lover,
asked him what color yellow and red
make. What is the difference between
a lake and a river? In the corner I
whittle my brother's used syringe
into an instrument only I can play.”
―
overdosed, he looked holy. A thing
not to be touched. Yellow halo of last
night's dinner. His skin, blanched blue
fresco: Patron Saint of Smack. A Cop,
flustered, tugged up his shorts, plunged
a needle into his pale thigh. He hissed
awake like a soda can. The paramedic
spoke slowly in his ear like a lover,
asked him what color yellow and red
make. What is the difference between
a lake and a river? In the corner I
whittle my brother's used syringe
into an instrument only I can play.”
―
