Fitz and his darling Z--

Oh! What he wouldn’t give to love her.

His shining Sayre champagne.

She roars

like the times

and prances,

with a gin and tonic in her hands.

With Jazz in her steps

she swayed

around in her androgynous dress.

She

    spilled

            wine

                on

                    his

                        sheets,

                      like

                  ink

                it

           will

     never

cease.

Engraved in his mind

are the words she poured out those nights.

When her life was all jumbled,

while she had a rumble,

in that jungle,

with

way

too

many

tumbles

down.

He let his golden flapper fall steep,

onto the colorless ground.

Where there was no sound.

He put her feathers to rest

and with the pen in his hands,

their lust became lost.

It became dust.

The gin and tonic

all gone.