I’ve never

I’ve never met a man

who pinged

or puffed

or used a pill to party

or tried to part with thrills

who danced like a martyr

for a cause so clear

to fancy and parade

not drunk or unaware,

but alive and well.

For these men

dance malignant

eyes glazed by clouds of

poked smot

and popped drills

to charade a jig of dogs.

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