Good Taste

by Will Monigold

I knocked on the door
When it opened
He was still in his uniform
I bought a bag
You better be
On time in the morning
Was all he said
French girls taste better
It’s probably their diet
The wine maybe
We all shared
The same works
By the time
You slip the needle
Into your arm
You’re shaking
I think I loved her
It’s hard to tell
When you’re high
But she was French
In the morning
I made formation
I asked the sergeant
If I could buy another bag
He never refused
She was rail thin
This French girl
And tall, but I
Really dug her accent
And the way she tasted
The sergeant didn’t use
Or maybe he did
It was hard to tell with him
At noon me and Pete
Fixed Kiki
That was her name
She’d come to visit her sister
Studying economics
You can’t live
After you’ve seen
Things that should be forgotten
I’d met her in Germany
Hitching from Paris to Athens
And now she was
Sitting across from me
At my table near the lake
When I got out
I swore I’d never use again
But it was a curse
Not a promise
She was beautiful
The way only French girls are
And I think I loved her
The way she tasted