by Alan Catlin
She spent her time between
Long Island and Paradise and
he divided his between New York
and Never Never Land, their primary
functions in life: clubbing, texting,
doping and screwing, often all
at the same time, like performers in
a new kind of Wild Wild West Show
on the Lower East Side of a depleted
ozone layer in their brains curdling like
milk left in the sun so long the smell
was just this side of Johnny Rotten three
days dead and unattended, a rankness
that went unnoticed by everyone that
they came in contact with, all suffering,
as they were, from the same affliction
of inattention and excess, all claiming
to know the real story of what happened
with Syd and Nancy, how the body double
died and the happy couple escaped upstate
to do time in the foothills of the Adirondacks
and the Twilight Zone.
Asphodel Madness 2.0 