Ending Up

I think of you, at last,
At the probable end
After the wolves have gone
And left your body-alone
On a sidewalk in Los Angeles-
stripped to the tendons
The intricate system
Of pulleys and levers
That made your hands
Do what they did
In the dark
With me

I am here in the east
At the start of everyday
Feeling your pulse
Sputtering out
To the meter
Of the words I write for you
I create you with every
Sharp graphite mark
Of the pencil in my hand
You think of me,
Though you said you wouldn't,
Because I want you to

And the dogs come back
Around to lick up what's left of you-
In the Hollywood heat-
To savor their vomit
Once again
And you begin to understand
That I lied to you
Long before you were wearing
High-end lingerie
And living off coffee, cigarettes,
And the charm of the Photogs
Who called you beautiful
Back when you sang karaoke
In Southern Kentucky
And you asked me
If it was okay
And I called it beautiful

And as I confess it
In your creation-
The disaster I have made
Out of the page
Out of you-
I'm still lying
Because you lie there
Bleeding out
And I still want
To piece you back together
And bring you back home
So I can tell you how beautiful
You sounded on the smoky stage
At the white-trash bar
In Southern Kentucky

I guess I'm just the hair
on the dog that bit you first...
or twentieth.