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A Cup of Kool-aid and Some Jacks

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Pockets empty
Simply because Lady Nicotine gets me.
She's thrifty.
Knows when we're on the brink
Rent due and there's a leak on the sink.
The pitter patter of dirty forks
On dirty plates touch low grade pork.
Ham sandwhiches on croissants
But is that really what we want?
We also want sugar, water and food dye.
Red eyes too.
Sticks, stems, seeds, trees, leaves...whatever.
Mary Jane never, clever enough to stop the pain.
Now my main squeeze,
She will tease, leave, and please.
I pack the jacks and that's that:
Her hands relax slow down my back,
As I retract.
Before exhale I grab the next pail,
and inhale.
0% fruit juice. The sweet nectar of ghetto gods,
And my favorite slobs.
Alas, my lady can fade away.
But I can always grab another cup and light the second of the day.

Comments (1)

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This describes the feeling perfectly! I love the line 'the sweet nectar of ghetto gods'.

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