#2,667 Lipstick On

I once held Leonard’s microphone
in my hand –
a golden thing full of
his spittle & larynxing –
I cleared a
pop shield of Debbie Harry’s lips –
her red sung kisses –
perfumed by
sweat & a light finger-tapped grip
that could be smelt –
I stole shirts
from a band’s wardrobe –
worth a
few quid to those collecting
[now
landfill or charity shop] –
I knew a
man who slept with three of Pan’s
People at once
[he never forgot it]