Alien Dope God

to fend off the bile
that stings my throat
I pierce close my swollen
tear raped eyes
in pretense
I'm some twisted
alien dope god
that smears
his slippery fingers
thru this warm
swamp-like surface
that belches & burps
primordial slime
from its wounded pores
to birth some fresh planet
into existence

her 'I love you, RC'
jolts me back
to this worn mattress
& to the realization
I am only a failed Adam
to her junkie Eve
& we pray thru heroin
we'll discover some lost
forbidden, still
& virgin garden...
not Hepatitis C
or HIV

as I rub PRID
drawing salve
into the pus filled
cellulitus sores
she skin-popped to life
on her once smooth
& taut pole-dancer belly.
to escape dope sickness
each time she missed
a caved 
or hidden vein