He had even written a poem about one, titled “OxyContin,” published in Annals of Internal Medicine: It might have been easier If OxyContin swallowed the mountains, and took The promises of tens of thousands of young lives Slowly, like ever-encroaching kudzu. Instead, It engulfed us, Gently as napalm Would a school-yard. Mama said As hard as it was to bury Papa after the top fell in the mine up Caney Creek, it was harder yet to find Sis that morning cold and blue, with a needle stuck up her arm. Top of her class, with nothing but promise ahead until hi-jacked by the torment of needle and
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Van Zee
