Alcoholic DEA Agent

His breath smelled of distillation,

childhood was soaked in booze,

And his denial was real,

He had to save the world,

From the powder, the pill or narcotic crystals,

When the news of psychedelic ceremony whispered on the breeze,

The enforcement was calling,

Never did he remember the constitution, Nixon, the native land stolen,

Or the rite to religious freedom,

The gun represented the power,

And the drug was the metaphor of evil,

The cactus became the enemy,

This DEA badge the authority,

To impose his liquor breath on the world,

Charging into ritual with ethnocentrism and pistol,

His liver turning fatty from the ethanol,

His life worshiping that distill,

And his knee on the faithful,