Where is the ice? He asked.
His drink was too warm and strong
So I found him some shards of ice.
But the diminished strength of his drink
Was undone by the three more he gulped down.
Swaying he stood and declared his love for a shadow
And returned to the hotel to have an infarction just before dawn.
Is an addict less an addict if they mix down their poison?
When over time the corpse begins to smell and ossify
And be buried deep or burnt to spare the living
Does it really matter if they took ice?
Don’t care, don’t want to know
The answer makes me sad
Because I know.