After the First Fag After a Fix

Oh! Redeemers and reformers!
What you have been trying
Those morals and examples I need not.
All I need are a fix and a fag
Oh! Redeemers and reformers!
What have I done —
you always look at me so suspiciously?

Worry not, for me, the hinterland
Fear not, for me, the mainland
No ideas that a gun
can kill by the saviours,
No wealth that you
would keep for your health,
No voice that all of us
have it in our silence,
But a fix
And a fag.

Fuck and suck, two words we will only care
Have you ever tried, I doubt, puffing
if you e’er do it, after fixing?
We must migrate to Burma
The entire land must be a no man’s land
Prison me in an animal cage
All the gun holders must die of overdose
The nearest drop-in centre is so close
The army must be mass-castrated
My attention span is 5cm at the longest
I have lost my mind
When powders flow more swiftly
than the streams in wet seasons,
I have no qualms about your rules
When the only thing I want is a clean syringe,
I mind not another issue;
on my liberty though, you impinge.
Heck! The kick is losing the heat.