heroine

by Marty Shambles

when we were 17

eliot sold his

stereo for his

first hit. got

$40 at the pawn

shop on guadalupe.

he tracked down

some street kids

who knew where to

score and we drove out to

east cesar chavez: eliot, me,

and the two street kids.

i sat in the back seat

with the girl of the

couple and she asked

if i was going to

get high. i said

i didn't know.

she said don't do it.

she said she would

take it back if she

could. we went up north

to a gutted motel. this

was probably in 2003,

back when this city

had dark corners where

dregs could fix.

the room had a single

bulb hanging from the

ceiling, a dirty

mattress on the floor–

like a depressing movie.

all my heroes were junkies:

bill burroughs

lou reed

jim carroll

kurt cobain

hunter thompson

but when the

needle was offered i

declined. "the bottle

is good enough

for me." years later

i found eliot at a

bus stop and he

thought i was an

agent of demons

sent to destroy

him. i couldn’t

convince him

otherwise.

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BIO: Marty Shambles is a poetry editor and writer-in-residence at Blood+Honey. Published and produced playwright. Poet laureate of railroad tracks and greasy spoons. He lives in Texas and has a GED.