The tale you told
an apparition
in the room
and we were haunted
for that moment
as if your prey
upon a cold
plate, no glass
of water would
wash away that
slight laugh
as you spoke of
cocaine, called her
sweet, your story
cut us up
like cheap meat
just a little
louder for the
débutante in the
corner, no longer
virgin. Now,
I thought of turning
around but did
not interrupt, you
coughed just then,
outcome—another
diamond.
Larry Sawyer
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jim-carroll/
