Well, We Lost It, And That’s All

I Have Been Treated Better Than I Should Have Been---not By Life In General Nor By The Machinery Of Things But By Women.

That Was All A Man Needed: Hope. It Was Lack Of Hope That Discouraged A Man.

2 P.m. Beer Nothing Matters But Flopping On A Mattress With Cheap Dreams And A Beer As The Leaves Die And The Horses Die And The Landladies Stare In The Halls; Brisk The Music Of Pulled Shades, A Last Man's Cave In An Eternity Of Swarm And Explosion; Nothing But The Dripping Sink, The Empty Bottle, Euphoria, Youth Fenced In, Stabbed And Shaven, Taught Words Propped Up To Die.

Her Eyes Always Had A Frantic, Lost Look. He Could Never Cure Her Eyes Of That.

Each Man's Hell Is In A Different Place: Mine Is Just Up And Behind My Ruined Face.