There must somewhere be

a drug for me.

Hummingbirds fly free

from nectar, sweet.

Bears accept winter sleep;

they ease each breath’s beat

I feed,

un-graceful, aimless?

I dream

night-marish futures?

I e-

volve authority–

authority?

There must somewhere be

a drug for me.

–by S.A. Bort  2012

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