Life with the plug
Life with the plug
My phone lights up
“Grey Audi”
It was parked on the corner under a streetlight, bonnet shimmering in the spring day
I recognised her from my imagination
She’s cute
She wound down the window and a smile poked out, then a hand
I shook it, soft and small like a domestic rat
Sweet sickly Mary Jane leaked out the vehicle
“Here you go” she said and handed me a bag
Her voice was soft and high, squeezed from between puckered pink lips larger than normal
A dainty nose springing from peachy complexion and framed by dark, straight hair that was thick enough for me to look twice
I stuck my head in the window
—
Looking about our surroundings I reached into my back pocket and asked her how she was, scattering notes on her front seat as she told me
She was happy to talk
I was happy to listen
Man these insta plugs are not like the county lines lads
—
We got talking. What she’s on, what I’m on
She asked me if I was spiritual
I can’t remember how I answered
She told me she could make anything and to give her a call
“Nice” I said “so that’s how it works”
“Yes” she said smiling “that’s how it works”
The bag felt heavy in my hand and she pulled up the handbrake
I went back upstairs
—
See all this got me imagining life with the plug
What would life with the plug be like
Excess
Arguments
Excitement
Wish fulfilment
Sex
More Arguments but sexy ones
Guys would come around to drop things off or collect, and I’d be awkward
It would be 24/7
Money
Guys would come and I’d still be me
On the sofa In a scatty fug of pseudo-philosophy, worrying just as much about oneness and ego-death as I do about how many Oreos I’m eating
Got To be thin for life with the plug
“Ive been doing toad toxins.” She’d told me. “It’s 12 times more powerful than DMT.”
Fuck. that would be too powerful for me
I’d cry and have to smash a plate to restore equilibrium
My life would be hers
I’d be hers to baby
A little drugged up baby to go with her real baby
A family
—
Rushed brunches
Weddings in Bali
Friday nights hookah pipes and germs
Texts at the dentist; ‘Stay golden my bby girl’
That’s actually something I would write as well
I’ve got an allotment
We grow guava and loads of cannabis
Shed install an instagram filter directly onto my eyes and I’d let her
Shimmering, sparkling her at my Nans funeral
Whipping men for money in the laundry room
Would she get me new teeth?
—
I get a message
“Nice to meet you today”
Life with the plug
—
ADDENDUM 1 Just revisiting this poem after a few months have gone by. I’ve had to unfollow the aforementioned plug because they’re toxic af on Instagram. Posting anti-vax shit, @ing everybody for stupid reasons. I’d be more vocal about it but they know where I live. So if anyone’s considering running off with their drug dealer, think twice about. Then again my actual relationship has deteriorated into a husk so the plug might still be an option.
ADDENDUM 2 Another 2 weeks later, I didn’t unfollow them and they actually got in touch with me about a new batch of medicated brownies which I’ve just taken delivery of and they’re lovely. Isn’t life funny. Relationship still a husk though...
Posted Oct 2, 2022, 3:37 PM UTC · edited