Addicts on all fours…
They used to crawl on all fours. Sniffing like blood hounds. For needles. And aluminum wrappings. That might still have a scent. Or a lick. Or a drip. Of good stuff. They can make use of in their hunger. For more highs. They use to creep in shadows. Digging up concrete slabs. Looking under shit even. Or streams of yellow piss. To find the droppings of another addict. Who had come before.
And we would watch them. From our tenement windows. Through fire escape slits. As they slid into sewer holes. Like Rats.
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Alphabet City Blues Author - Sean Anderson 