Lindsay

How I want to drink
your Oxy, whiskey
California skin.

Dyed bottle blond hair
hanging against my face and nicotine kisses in early orange.

They used you up,
dumped you,
trailer trash unwanted.

But not me, Lindsay.
Like DiMaggio to Monroe,
I’d take whatever little remained.

I’d smash up
hotel rooms with you,
find God at the bottle of a bottle.

We’d spit at paparazzi,
dance at clubs we were too
fucked up in to remember.

Sid and Nancy wouldn’t
hold a flame to us.
We’d burn out, apoplectic.

The rehab & divorce would be
something for the biographies.
I’d always love you though.

Stephen J. Golds was born in the U.K, but has lived in Japan for most of his adult life. He enjoys spending time with his daughters, reading books, traveling, boxing and listening to old Soul LPs. Glamour Girl Gone, his debut novel, will be released by Close to The Bone Press on January 29th, 2021. Follow him on Twitter @SteveGone58.

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

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