polk street

today i was walking down polk street which used to be lined with male prostitutes, but i've never seen one. they prostituted themselves because they were young and needed money for heroine. sex sells and heroine is expensive.

i was on my way to wildflower. i go there to make art and sometimes talk to heroine addicts. today, someone bought a book i made. the money will go to replace opium plants with pomegranate trees. that felt good. hope feels so good.

but, on my way to wildflower, i saw the saddest thing of all. three teenagers were talking, smoking, laughing. one crouched down on the sidewalk, tied up her arm, and pulled out her needle.

heroine. the most violent of all drugs.

i thought of robert frost. i have been one acquainted with the night. i wondered if his heart hurt sometimes, just from watching life fall apart into death.

because, sometimes mine does.