Chelsea Girl (Poetry)

15th April 2018
She was a gypsy-hearted girl
she snorted, smoked and drank
illegal substances and broke
away from file and rank

She joined a clique — a kind of cult
of racy avant-garde
who hung out in rich circles
where the play was cool and hard

She posed for their blue movies
she gang-banged and gave head
she bathed her wounds in pink champagne
and mourned each newly-dead

And when she grew too old to dance
she settled for some chap
who rescued her — burnt out and bound
for Boogie Street’s last lap

Poor widow now, she dyes her hair
and sometimes feeds the cat
but hardly thinks about the past —
the pills put paid to that