We don't do heroin here

I’d like to introduce to you to my household.
A moment above me is a couple,
they argue to the point
where I must open a bottle of red,
light a cigarette
and sit in the company of Chopin
smiling
as they throw expletives
at the walls.
This is fine,
it brings out a surprising amount of warmth.

Then they are the other two.
Christ almighty.
Have you ever heard a five foot three girl
being bounced off every wall
at seven am?
It leaves a tingle…
What do you do?
Then to learn the violent one
is injecting heroin
and selling it to his composure-less companions
at your expense.

I walk home to see the scum
leaving.
I think of injecting them
with an empty bottle,
but I just find myself
asleep amidst their carnage.

I leave this page
with an air of hopeful drunkenness…
This man, topped up on Special K
downed by a later life
and veins full of shite
still considers himself alpha.

I will now watch as Chopin plays,
swigging on nectar
as life unfolds for the desperate
and plays out desperately
for everyone else.