New Mexico

 I was fairly drunk when it
began and I took out my bottle and used it
along the way.
I was reading a week or two after Kandel and I did not look quite as pretty but I brought it off and we ended up at the Webbs, 6, 8, 10 of us, and I drank scotch, wine, beer, tequila and noticed a nice one sitting next to me - one tooth missing when she smiled, lovely, and I put my arm around her and began loading her with bullshit.
when I awakened at 10 a.
the next morning I was in a strange house in bed with this woman.
she was asleep but looked familiar.
I got up and here was one kid running around in a crib and another one running around the floor in pajamas.
I picked up a letter addressed to one "Betsy R.
", so I went back and said, "hey, Betsy, there are kids running around all over this place.
" "oh Hank, damn it, I'm sick.
I want to sleep, not rap.
" "but look, the .
" "make yourself some coffee.
" I put the pot on and the little boy ran up in his pajamas.
I found a shirt and some pants and some shoes and dressed him.
then I cleaned a bottle with hot water, filled it with milk and gave it to the kid in the crib.
he went for it.
then I went in and squeezed her hand.
"I've got to go.
are you all right ?" "yes, a little sick.
but please don't feel bad.
" I called a yellow cab and we went back across town.
is this what happened to D.
Thomas ? I thought.
if a man didn't think too much he could be proud of his little conquests - except that the women were better than we - asking nothing as we squirted our poetry our bullshit our sperm to them.
we were sick poets sick people.
across town I knocked on the door of my host and hostess.
"what happened ?" they asked.
got lost.
" they sat a beer in front of me and I drank it as if I were wordly: a piece-of-ass any-night anywhere type.
"somebody got a cigarette ?" I asked.
"sure, sure.
" I lit up and asked, "heard from Creely lately ?" not giving a damn whether they had or not.

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