TripOut

Resist…Stance to Truth

It was just another drug related
fucked up kid, a
poster face to lace up the war on drugs
a house of cards dealing itself straight, into his house
on a desperate parent phone call, direct dial
get a file for your drug war fifteen year old child
a teen horror under the influence of

His mother at his arresting hour, rising to her best
the table prearranged and set
indignant and upset, ignorant of the part she set
she plays to the police, so
at least her supportive role
will fill the time frame
needed to complete, the nice and neat form sheet

But under the initial cover story, of boy in band, on a bus
busted for pot in the school parking lot
was a much more complicated plot
sure he had ingested an herb from his garden

A seed that seemed to allow him to plow new ground
after all, he’d been allowed to down pill after pill
from the pharmacological field of “dream” drugs
since he was very young
and identified as among other things
hyper

Sure he had ingested an herb from his garden
he thought it would help alleviate thoughts of self
hate and other unfortunate dates
he had gotten from his,
beginning

His mother now with a gateway
and a captivating opportunity, moved in tune
from pot right to heroin and her as the heroine
the single mother up against the wall, of opportunity
she plead, her family torn apart by drugs, war

The soldiers at the front, door
open to her plight
she and they dependent on the same sight
now all knew what she was going through
arrest the son, the devil weed, in the family garden
must be plucked and with any luck, restrung
to be hung in order on the family picture wall
picture perfect to the part
he was never given the heart for

He had ingested much more than weed
years of needs, generations of past misdeeds
were the true seeds of his present scene
sitting on his couch in his house under arrest
were his deepest emotional conflicts
now handcuffed, he coughed, up, thoughts
to hands usually hastening to touch something
now clasped to faith in the punishment state

His fate, accepted and ingested by his mother and the police
state
another drug related family uprooted
by weed in the fabricated state of straight

Head down, hands cuffed, surrounded by mother and undercover
he leaves his living room, floored
their lease of his life extended, now to be tended by guard
…ing their benefits to fit him into their straight …
jacket, his jacket now reads, so pleasingly
“State Department of Corrections”

A rap sheet, a cover story
another kid that did, not D.A.R.E.
a simple paraphrase will do;
all his troubles so explainable
the answers so enforceable

So irresistible, just allow a constable
and a few syllables to write your writ
so daring their resist …

Stance to truth

10/21/01

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