Addiction

I’d love to smoke a thousand cigarettes
And after that I’d smoke another two,
I’d smoke away my wrinkles and my debts,
My relatives, my rising damp, and you.
If that was not enough I’d turn to drink
I’d scotch my former dearest oldest friend
And gin my colleagues, apfelschnapps my shrink
And you I’d drown in vats of Irish blend.
If memories persisted after that
I’d have to source some drugs from off the street
I hardly know what’s hip and what’s old hat
Since ecstasy was always you, my sweet.
     Bestow on me the ultimate reprieve:
     Be kind and stay; be kinder still, and leave.