I live for a fix. A vice. A high.
My needle of choice is much different than you’d expect.
Without fear of incarceration, I take it with me everywhere I go.
I don’t conceal it. I flaunt it as I keep it over my shoulder.
Unlike most needles, mine can be used over and over and over again.
I get an itch, and it needs to be scratched.
With my needle in tow, I head to the nearest bar.
They know me here, for I’m never away very long.
Once I get started, there’s no way to stop me.
I rack them so fast, sweat beading from my forehead.
I need to hear that first crack!
Even though I’m in a hurry, I take my time.
I slowly grasp the blunt end of my needle and rest the shaft on top of my other hand.
I make sure the stroke is smooth and definitive before I unleash the massive blow.
I finally relax.
I can ride this high all night long.
Billiards is my drug of choice.