Heroin Chic

By GERRY LAFEMINA

Pin prick of pink in the solution to ensure you struck a vein,
before you push the plunger in. Brief burn then spreading

numbness, a lingering… let’s name it exhaustion.
You’ve made a map of minor overdoses—you call it napping,

that nodding out. I’ve seen it all before: syringes
like the thin bones of a kitten, I’ve wiped the sweat,

the vomit away, & for what? I wasn’t a hero then.
I won’t be one tomorrow. I just understand hunger

& all its sister urges. I understand urgency.
I understand I call it love. Understand I need to.

 
Gerry LaFemina is the author of numerous books of poetry and fiction, the most recent of which are Vanishing Horizon (poems, 2011 Anhinga Press), Notes for the Novice Ventriloquist (prose poems, 2013 Mayapple Press) and Clamor (novel, 2013 Codorus Press). He directs the Frostburg Center for Creative Writing at Frostburg State University and divides his time between Maryland and New York.

 

[Click here to purchase your copy of Issue 08]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Heroin Chic

Related Posts

July 2026 Poetry Feature

AMIYA MORETTA
Magnolia tree in the window, hammock, / a loop in hours, a cradle of light we swing inside, / naming what we’re afraid of. / In this version, he is from halfway around the world. / Some net caught the curve of us in the dark, / gathered what it could, his hand, my pulse.

Caribbean picture

Self-Portrait in The Caribbean

PAOLA ASSAD BARBARINO
Sometimes I am emboldened, / I decide to stand in the people’s balcony / I decide it is Maundy Thursday I decide to place a priest behind me that can speak to the people behind / my back / I decide to put out the fire and light my throat / scream

Feltspade

ELIAS SADAQ
I serve out my conscription / sleep in a bunk bed / for four cold months / in the engineer regiment at Skive Garrison / in a room with three other men / I fuck the colonel / the only sign that time is passing / is a pile of snow outside the window / that grows smaller