Free Codine

wrote this in a flurry of similar activity on Thursday evening...

The Jagged Edge – or – this is what White Line Fever is about, if not cocaine

Ride the wind

Or the rails

Or whatever

There’s some strange sort of

Balance

Or tension

Or something

From sailing close

To the jagged edge

Especially

When you sail too close

And the jagged edge

looms out

from the murk of fiction

and reminds you

of your own, crashing

mortality

and if you survive

well enough to lick your wounds;

to taste the burn

and the dirt

of the jagged edge

you’ll smile

a strange sideways smile

knowing you can never go back

and if you don’t

then you’re already there

the jagged edge don’t care

and with any luck

will get you in the end

better than a care home

and spiraling debt

and someone else

who doesn’t want to be there

wiping your arse

and stealing your watch

-----

then this happened mid-dayish Friday

 

thank fuck for the NHS & free Codine! 12 hours in A&E, 5 x-rays, a bit of concussion and a sore neck and not one thing broken...bloody poetic premonitions!
So it goes.