naked opioid

it was a slow walk
fueled by methadone
a white plastic bottle

shake. a perk.

watch the orange powder cascade gently
for a saint’s deliverance
an addiction that involves
no people is preferred
i walked quickly down
the darkly lit halls


trying to fold her into the shadow
no gore for salvation
a quick pass by 10th avenue
i entered the sexpo
touched by
xxx actresses
for a slow ride down

they blindfolded me and left me
to queasily walk to the avon 7 film-house
guided by a morbid radar
for extreme film cycles
for addiction that works with images and
no human contact

it was a full history sucked and nibbled
furiously we headed back for surgery
today, the major thrusting increased
but it didn’t help

i removed her from the glass cube
she had pain from a sleep disturbance

i kissed her forehead
i kissed her hair
i kissed her scalp
i kissed each eyelid
i kissed each fingernail
i placed a crucifix under her tongue

we stared at the marquee as we sat on the curb
we were moist with july
and the street vendor’s grease
and remnants of meat
and people noise surrounding

it was a white noise death for a stillborn
we hid from the inline sensations
while leaning against each other
with our fantasy of acute dependence
working hard for our punishment and

i tuck her into a bed
drawn and quartered


Peter Marra
Peter Marra is in Williamsburg Brooklyn. His goal is to become an adjective and find new methods of description. He has either been published in or has work forthcoming in Caper Literary Journal,, Yes Poetry, Maintenant 4, Beatnik, Crash, Danse Macabre, Clutching At Straws O Sweet Flowery Roses, Breadcrumb Scabs,Carcinogenic and Calliope Nerve. He is currently constructing his first collection of poems.