The great lover

I mean, at that place in east Hollywood I was so often with the hardest numbers In town I don't speak as a misogynist I had other people ask me "what the hell are you doing, anyhow?" These were floozies, killers, blanks They had bodies, hair, eyes, legs Parts But, say, take one of them, it was like Sitting there with a shark dressed in a Dress, high heels, smoking, drinking Pilling The nights went into days and the days Went into nights And we babbled on through, sometimes Bedding down, badly Through the drink, the uppers, the Downers, I got myself to imagine Things--say, that this one was the Golden girl of the golden heart and The golden way of laughter and love And hope In the dim smokey light the long hair Looked better than it was, the legs More shapely, the conversation not as Bare, not as vicious I fooled myself pretty well. I even Got myself to thinking that I loved One of them, the worst one I mean, why the hell be negative? Accept We drank, drugged, stayed in the Center of the rug, through sunset Sunrise, played Scrabble for 8 Or ten hours Each time I went in to piss she Stole the letters she needed She was a survivor, the Bitch After one marathon session Of 52 hours of whatever we Were doing She said, "let's drive to Vegas and get married?" "what?" I asked "let's drive to Vegas and Get married before we Change our minds!" "but suppose we get married Then what?" "then you can have it any Time you want it." she told Me I went in to take a piss To let her steal the letters She needed But when I came out I opened A new bottle of wine And spoke no more of the Subject She didn't come around as Much after that But there were others About the same Sometimes there were More than one They'd come in two's The word got out that There was an old sucker In the back court, free Booze and he wasn't overly Sexually demanding Although at times something Would overtake me and I Would grab a body and throw In a sweaty horse copulation Mostly, I guess, to see if I could still do it And I confused the mailman There was an old couch on The porch and many a morning As he came by I'd be sitting There with, say, two of them We'd be sitting there with our Beer cans, smoking and Laughing One day he found me alone "pardon me," he said, "but can I ask you something?" "sure" "well, I don't think you're Rich..." "no, I'm broke." "Listen, he said, "I've been around The world." "yeah?" "and I've never seen a man with As many women as you There's always a different one Or a different pair..." "yeah?" "how do you do it? I mean, pardon me, but you're kind Of old and you're not exactly a Cassanova, you know?" "I could be ugly, even." He shifted his letters from one hand to the Other "I mean, how do you do it?" "availability," I told him "what do you mean?" "I mean, women like a guy who is always Around." "uh," he said, then walked off to continue his Rounds His praise didn't help me What he saw wasn't as good as he thought Even with them there were unholy periods of Drab senselessness And worse I walked back into my place The phone was ringing I knew that it would be a female Voice