Ode To Clara Bow

Pardon my prior guilt
Over-feeding the wolfish ilk
In curious query, on fortunes of filth
How did so many fools and men
Fit into Clara Bow’s Chinese den?
Scenes like these can only be sketch
(Life of the party died a vignette)
Like gluttony ends a daydream bliss:
“Alas
At times
I found
Exquisite bitterness
In
Your kiss.”