414. THE UNMARVELED CIRCUMSTANCE OF WANT

THE UNMARVELED
CIRCUMSTANCE
OF WANT
(I really loved Mary,
I really loved Jane.
Underneath the covers,
they were all the same.)
'You can take your freight car and shove it. Albert Camus,

remember, died on the road, and even Frank O'Hara, I think

it was, was sliced in two by an errant dune buggy. The last time

I painted this house I painted it green; how it's turned back

to white is beyond me.' The radio played 'Days of Wine

and Roses', but it played it over and over again as if

there was nothing else to do. I soon grew bored,
and walked away holding pieces of twig and some
twine from the garden where I'd just been
hanging out. It was just great fun

watching Nellie Bly bend over.
-
Everything all day was like this. Toil and sweat, repeat,
and toil and sweat again. Why? I do not know.
And then the guests began coming, two by two,
into the restaurant next door. Guys with their
dates, girls with their guys, guys with guys
and girls with girls. Everybody looking
good - well, girls anyway; all I cared
about. I wondered who'd be sleeping
with whom before the night was thru.