Elsewhere there is light
But the man upstairs screams every night
In want of mercy or what; he casts
Himself against the floor, great crusading flops
Thundering to drive the demons out;
Here in 207, the walls shake with righteous
Fury, but in heaven or some place else
He drinks and screams and wrestles the divine,
Vomits his gods clear across the balcony,
Moaning until the police arrive.
* * *
Moral: Don’t do heroin.
Epilogue: He never came back.