helping friends

I always like to help women I have known.
there was one at the Seaside Motel, I gave her
name to Johnny:   “you go up there, tell her I
sent you, she gives great head…”
“yeah, man?”
“yeah.”
it was true, she gave great head, it was only
all the other things she did which were hardly
as excellent.

then there was Virginia Munson, I took Harold
up there one night, we drank an hour or two,
then I said, “I’m out of cigarettes…”
“you can have some of mine,” Virginia said.
“no, I’ve got to have my brand, I’m going for
cigarettes…” and I left them there together.
Virginia didn’t give good head mostly because
she couldn’t stop talking long enough to get
her lips around anything.

it all balances out, friends have sent me
women, they’ve looked quite good standing
in the doorway; it was only a day or two or
three later, after they had left that I realized
how good the empty wine and beer bottles looked
standing there and how good the wastebasket
looked and how good that roach looked climbing
up the wall and how good the telephone looked
unhooked, and to stretch out and listen to dogs
barking and airplanes going overhead, nobody
knew how easy it was to be alone and not
lonely.