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Lovely to Remember Sometimes

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She was like Sappho

with great big hips that swiveled

an original

a poetess who’s one misery

was youth

She taught me

like you teach a dog

obedient and semi-conscious

She taught me

about pains and their lack of meaning

about feeling dead and feeling still

She taught me so much

and she swayed her hips

and I was mystified and grateful

and I used to sit and watch her write

and she would look at me watching her

and she wouldn’t smile, she’d offer me a drink instead

because she knew I needed one

because it was the right way to go about it

because there was a long stretch of time to bed

too much vengeance for former lovers in us both

when she’d stretch a leg beside the typewriter

I would know

a cue carefully constructed

tested in sweat and open mouths.

She never let me read her work,

she told me I wouldn’t recognize it

as I did my own

I was barely a writer then

more of an addict for experience and temptation

wanton and usually breathless

who wrote when there was nothing else to do.

She taught me

like you teach a dog

how to use a pen

how to pawn for wine

how to designate the necessary

how to use all that

and how to deserve her bed.

She was Sappho with great big hips

that knew my madness

that grifted every weakness I had ever had

they were like homeless children begging for milk

and I loved them

and I loved her

and I knew that she would be gone.

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