2/5/4:20am

2/5/4:20am
by emma blowgun
i was the only white kid at
the party on j street last night.
four people got in a fight and
broke glass bottles of domestic
beer on each others heads.
some girl grabbed my ass and
winked at me. she had dark lips
and very thin eyebrows. her
eyebrows were too thin for me.
i caught a glimpse of half my face
while blowing coke on a mirror
it’s a funny thing
how people do cocaine on
mirrors; it’s depressing to
stare yourself in the eye
when you know
you’re surrounding yourself
with the misfits in the
trailer courts, putting
narcotics in your bloodstream
as easy as clearing your throat.
the street lamps turn off
the curbside shootings turn on
the drip falls down and tastes like
ether.
“cedar rapids,
southeast side”
they say.
had jesus been born here,
i may cut him more slack than
krishna, mithra, and the likes.
i started my car drunk off my ass
and passed a cop on a
divided highway going 15 over
at 3:51 in the morning. i saw his
lights go on shortly before he passed
me.
“they call me thug life”
that cop never knew what a
19 year old with a little motivation
could do in a time of crisis.
i never knew what i could do
with four drugs in my system and
double vision.
i’m home in time
to write
this poem
and smoke a
blunt before
pas