oh, I was a ladies' man

you
wonder about
the time
when
you ran through women
like an open-field
maniac
with the total
disregard for
panties, dish towels,
photos
and all the other
accoutrements-
like
the tangling of
souls.

what
where you
trying to
do
trying to
catch up
with?

it was like a
hunt.
how many
could you
bag?
move
onto?

names
shoes
dresses
sheets, bathrooms

bedrooms, kitchens
back
rooms,
cafes,
pets,
names of pets,
names of children;
middle names, last
names, made-up
names.

you proved it was
easy.
you proved it
could be done
again and
again,
those legs held
high
behind most of
you.
or
they were on top
or
you were
behind
or
both
sideways
plus
other
inventions.

songs on radios.
parked cars.
telephone voices.
the pouring of
drinks.
the senseless
conversations.

now you know
you were nothing but a
fucking
dog,
a snail wrapped around
a snail-
sticky shells in the
sunlight, or in
the misty evenings,
or in the dark
dark.

you were
nature’s
idiot,
not proving but
being
proved.
not a man but a
plan
unfolding,
not thrusting but
being
pierced.
now
you know.

then
you thought you were
such a
clever devil
such a
cad
such a
man-bull
such a
bad boy

smiling over your
wine
planning your next
move

what a
waste of time
you were

you great
rider
you Attila of
the springs and
elsewhere

you could have
slept through it
all
and you would never
have been
missed

never would have
been
missed
at all.