DEBBIE
In one direction or another
a wicked celebration
smashed ideas against a wall
smashed until unrecognizable
almost like a hamburger
a mud puddle in the hot jungle
A profile appeared of ancient stars
discovered in Interview magazine
very late at night
twinkling
between the drink and drugs
and the volume of the music
Ideas rose again
A bunch of troublemakers came around
stealing items from the lost and found
posting the stolen images
all over the walls of a Denny’s diner
with chewing gum
somewhere in the middle of hot
New Jersey
The police never came
were never called
Only the quiet people with their coffee
bothered to twist their necks
to get a closer look
and it didn’t last long
as their hot coffee grew cold
It may have been summer
but who remembers those kinds
of details
Or what model of car
we were driving
Except it did go very fast
on the Jersey Turnpike
stopping for gas, we bought
a box of Slim Jims
The protein and pepper
fit us better than the gasoline
No, it must have been autumn
The colored leaves crunched
We parked the car and went
to sit in the shade
Conversation rolled around to the stars
we had found
memories not always getting it right
Except one for sure
hot Debbie Harry
We wanted to be her
like Andy Warhol
We lifted our shades for a better look
Roots were never showing
only the insides of her
punk internal organs
we were insanely jealous
but still didn’t know
what direction to go
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