Under stairs,
in the Alphabet District,
an addict is on the nod.
He is laying in a layer
of moldering garbage
and orange needle caps.
Despite the rain squall,
the prevailing odor is piss.
His pants are down,
a rig stuck in his prick.
He wakes for medical.
He's not high enough
for the hospital.
I guess that's his life now until he overdoses.
Full praise to those who attend to him putting themselves at risk. It's more than I could do.
Posted by: Jay | March 22, 2017 at 02:54 PM
With Narcan easily available and in abandance, overdosing is rarely fatal, even if they stop breathing.
Posted by: RD | March 23, 2017 at 02:28 PM
I wonder how often they end up glad, about the narcan.
Posted by: Ev | March 28, 2017 at 01:13 AM
Many of the people I have talked to have OD'd 17-30 times in their lives with Narcan bringing them back.
Posted by: RD | March 28, 2017 at 02:02 AM