Memories of Alcohol

My daughter screams and I rush outside
and gather her in my arms.

They say the sense of smell is processed
deep in our reptilian brain.
The things we experience when stimulated 
create a gestalt event -- the feel, 
the thoughts, the images are
like Ponderosa pines.

Flying on speed was ecstasy. More 
than the greatest sex, More than
winning the lottery. More than
cake and ice cream pie.

I gladly offered my life
for the rush of crystal meth. 
The rush that gives you the 
world -- the strength of Samson, 
the wisdom of Solomon 
and the very power of God.

It hits you like a tsunami 
as you pull the needle out,
engulfs you complete and simultaneous
with the smell of the cotton swab.

Kenny A. Chaffin - 6/28/01