taking photographs

it’s just me and Spencer alone in a
Downtown Eastside alley he’s
struggling with the Brillo in his
crack pipe just
hang on hang on he
says I’m
jonesing man

but I
don’t want to photograph Spencer stoned he
has a sweet Chet Baker face the
face Chet had before his
monsters took him down it’s
like knowing where Spencer is going how
he’ll look in a few years his
face in black and
white lit from the side his eyes
revealing as much closed as

he lights the
tiny nugget in the glass tube and
inhales standing perfectly still he
shudders and exhales and says ah
fuck me then
you can take my
picture now

then he
smiles the smile of
too many childhood violations of
too many bar fights too
many nights when only the
voices showed the way and the
voices were always wrong I
raise the Nikon and fire


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