Bars

He paces the space off
between the bars,
draws a cigarette out of his ass
and a match
that is hidden beneath the mattress
which he draws against a cement floor
and the match lights up
and in ecstasy
he draws in the marijuana fumes.

Just now somebody
are going to enter him from behind
in the shower
and he tries
to get it out of his thoughts
and thinks about the Vaseline
with which he is going
to wipe his body glowing
and suddenly the cigarette tastes bitter
and like a animal in zoo
he is caught and caged in

and monotony eats through his humanity
and he count while he measures his paces,
do a few push ups
and forces a grin
as he thinks that a hero character would have

l’Envoi
but the longing for drugs
is already in him
and to be bound to it
is another kind of penalty, a jail
where no light ever comes
that is making him an animal
who acts irrationally
waiting for the next fix.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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