LONELY MEN NEGLECT THEIR WOMEN

I am not that
hungry silhouette
moiling the moon-silence
of the long steppe.
I have not the thin eyes,
nor the wolf-belly;

You have known me.
My spurs
do not pit
other porches in the dark—
My eyes haven’t got
the low black hush
of moths that clutter
the gutters
of lonely men. No,

I have loved you richly.
What more needs man
than the slim revolver
of your tongue and
your six-chamber hips?