she lived in this house
that looked like a
castle
and when you got inside
the ceilings were so very
high
and I was poor
and it all rather
fascinated
me.

she
was no longer
young
but she had 
masses
of hair
that damn near
went down to her
ankles
and
I thought about
how strange
it would be
doing it
with all that
hair.

I drove up there
several times
in my old
car
and she had fine
liquors to
drink
and we sat 
but I could
never quite get
near her
and though I didn’t
push at
it
something about
not 
connecting
did offend my
ego
for ugly as I was
I had always been
lucky with the
ladies.

it confused me
and I suppose
I needed
that.

she like to
talk about
the arts and
about
film making
and listening
to all that
only made me
drink
more.

I 
finally
just
gave her
up
and a good year
or so
went by
when
one night
the phone 
rang: it was the
lady.

“I want to come see 
you,” she said.

“I’m writing now, I’m
hot…I can’t see
anybody…”

“I just want to come
by, I won’t bother you,
I’ll just sit on the couch,
I’ll sleep on the couch, I
won’t bother you…”

“NO! JESUS CHRIST, I
CAN’T SEE ANYBODY!”

I hung up.

the lady who was actually
on the couch
said, “oh, you’re all
SOFT now!”

“yeah.”

“come here…”

she took my penis
in her hand
flicked out her
tongue
then
stopped.

“what are you writing?”

“nothing…I’ve got writer’s
block…”

“sure you have…your pipes are
clogged…you need to get
cleaned out…”

then she had me in her
mouth

and then the phone rang
again…

in a fury
I ran over to the
phone
picked it
up.

it was the lady in the
castle:

“listen, I won’t bother you,
you won’t even know I’m
there…”

“YOU WHORE, I’M GETTING A
BLOW JOB!”

I hung up and
turned back.

the other lady was walking
toward the
door.

“what’sa matter?” I
asked.

“I can’t STAND that
term!”

“what term?”

“BLOW JOB!” she
screamed.

she slammed the door and
was gone…


I walked to where the 
typewriter sat
put a new piece of paper
in there,
it was one
a.m.

I sat there and
drank scotch and
beer chasers
smoked cheap
cigars.

3:15 a.m.
I was still sitting
there
re-lighting old
cigar stubs and
drinking ale.

the new
piece of paper was still
unused.

I switched out the
lights
worked my way toward
the bedroom
got myself on the
bed
clothes still
on

I could hear the toilet
running
but couldn’t get up
to tap the handle
to end that
sound

my god damned pipes were
clogged.