Featured Poem / Fall/Winter 2015
my slumlord
living in a $50 a day flop house
stamped baggies: the slumlord of my soul.
rent is due daily and it is too damn high-in both ways,
unending; a self-mutilation mortgage.
gutter view on the fifth floor
no heat just the warmth in my blood stream
as I purify it underneath a lit spoon.
the holy water offered up
bowing at the altar of you HIGHness
the intersection of the cross
vein and needle submerge.
muddied dreams, dark thoughts
the same color as my powdery persona.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Patrick Trotti is a writer, editor, and student. Check out more at www.patrictrotti.com.