During a 2004 baseline qualitative interview in Kentucky, “Cletus,” (25-year old, white male) volunteered the information that there were MA-themed poems circulating among active MA users. He said, “I don't know if a whole lotta people know, but they've [some MA users] even gone so far as making a rhyme[s], you know. If you've ever heard that, you know, kind of a storyline behind doing the meth.”
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3713610
Poem One: The End of the Road
1. The end of the road is finally near.
2. How did it all start? I'm not quite clear.
3. Did I call my friends or did they call me?
4. Did I have to pay money or did I get it for free?
5. I think it was Sunday we started our buzz.
6. A big fat fifty for me and my Cuz.
7. He [cook/dealer] said it was awesome, he called it “the fire.”
8. I know this guy well and he is no liar.
9. A brand new Bic lighter is a useful tool.
10. A straw or a pen and, of course, aluminum foil.
11. I mold my foil, it's now called a boat.
12. I hold it real steady as I pour on the dope.
13. The foil now heated from my brand new Bic.
14. I heat it real slow, not to burn it too quick.
15. The dope is now melting, it's a beautiful sight.
16. With the straw in my mouth to catch the smoke just right.
17. Holding the boat steady at just the right slant.
18. I hit it real hard, now hear comes the pant.
19. Now exhaling the smoke, I can't help but smile.
20. I haven't seen dope this good in a really long while.
21. My Cuz is now ready for it is her turn.
22. She's impressed by the taste and the way that it burns.
23. The dope is awesome, we like it that way.
24. That's how we started on our endless day.
25. Wound for sound and spun to the gun.
26. We're tweaking and geeking, just having some fun.
27. Before we know it five days have gone by.
28. We're both still awake, but we have bugged out eyes.
29. Our bodies need rest, now we're moving real slow.
30. I'm seeing weird shit as my mind starts to go.
31. A rational thought, I haven't had in a while.
32. My jaws are locked and I can't even smile.
33. We do more and more as we try to maintain.
34. We think we're okay, but we're acting insane.
35. We're both spaced out in our own little world.
36. Until we hear talking, it's the voice of a girl.
37. Both of us freeze, careful not to make a sound.
38. Now I hear footsteps and the loading of rounds.
39. I know it's the law, so why even look.
40. They think we're dealers or maybe the cook.
41. Now we're low crawling ‘cross the living room floor.
42. Just past the couch and then out the back door.
43. We sling open the door and we make our move.
44. We can't look back, we got too much to lose.
45. Straight to the bushes as fast as we can.
46. We lie there and hide and think of a plan.
47. We're safe at the bushes, but we cannot speak.
48. 'Cause we're both out of breath and our knees are all weak.
49. We know not to move, not even a muscle.
50. 'Cause the grass and the twigs make a distinctive rustle.
51. The morning sun now pierces our eyes.
52. The Feds didn't find us, I was surprised.
53. How did we do it? Surely they had to see.
54. Right by the bushes was my cousin and me.
55. We can't see a cop, not a single blue light.
56. That doesn't make sense, ‘cause we both heard them last night.
57. The cops didn't see us, now that doesn't add up.
58. Then I remembered I never looked up.
59. We never took time to check out that sound.
60. We each flipped out and just hit the ground.
61. We spent too many days without any sleep.
62. Doing too much dope and we needed to eat.
63. The two of us then had to call it quits [from that particular binge].
64. For another true story of smoking the shit.
Jump in the discussion.
No email address required.
Pretty clear to me that Meth isn't as good for poetry as lean, coke, or if you're Kanye: sobriety.
Jump in the discussion.
No email address required.
Dumb people use meth because it's cheap. You'd get better art from coke heads because the rich could afford to do coke and write poetry. If you were only able to afford coke but not use it stupidly, you'd frick someone or give it to someone to suck your peepee (it's hard to get hard on coke), so there wasn't “art” from coke heads that were just pretending to be rich
Edit- methhead poets are like people that bought cottonelle wipes in bulk. It's just all a feeling of aimless asslicking and no fiber.
Jump in the discussion.
No email address required.
Also meth is neurotoxic and everyone that smokes it ends up r-slurred. There has not been a single good piece of meth art
Jump in the discussion.
No email address required.
More options
Context
More options
Context
More options
Context