To my Deep Undergrounders

You were right,
Of course.
He’s on another bender
Another heroin one way track
To oblivion
While his son sits beside him
And says,
“I wish dad would be normal
Not like this:”
And he hangs his head down
And makes sleeping noises
Lifts his head up and laughs
Because it’s funny, really,
To a five year old.  
He nestles himself into
The crook of his dad’s waist  
Waiting for him to maybe wake up
But he sleeps on, forever,
In a black, molasses world
Of paradise.