WHAT ABOUT HER?

“And what about her? I mean, I know we’ve got him, but what about her?” asked Maugham. “Isn’t she too clever and too important to touch?”

Steinthal looked at him as if trying to search his friend’s mind for sincerity, or the lack thereof.

“I thought you would have known better by now,” he said.

“Know better than what?” said Maugham.

Steinthal bent over and picked up something from the ground, pocketed it, then turned back to Maugham.

“Everyone thinks they are too big to touch. Everyone thinks they are too tough to touch. Everyone thinks they are too clever to touch. Everyone thinks they are too important to touch,” he replied. “No one ever is.”

“Are you sure about that?” said Maugham.

“Absolutely certain,” said Steinthal.

“Because some people are awful hard to get at,” countered Maugham.

Steinthal narrowed his eyes.

“If you know what you’re doing then no one is really hard to get at. It’s just an urban myth to think otherwise.”

“Good,” said Maugham. “That’s my thinking too. But I just wanted to hear you say it out loud.”

Steinthal looked at him quizzically.

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Because when you say things out loud with that look on your face shit actually starts to happen,” said Maugham. “And I’m about ready for this shit to happen. I’m through waiting. Sure enough.”

Steinthal looked hard at his friend for a long moment, as if weighing him in his mind for a prizefight.
“Alright then,” said Steinthal. “Let’s make some shit happen.”

“Yeah,” said Maugham. “How bout we do that.”

And they both turned and headed back to town.

from The Detective Steinthal
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THE WEIGHT OF THE WOMAN – FIRST VERSE

THE WEIGHT OF THE WOMAN

The weight of the woman
That the man waits to love
Bears on him deeply, and
Bares from above

The wait for that woman
Is a hard weight to bear
As long as he loves her
As long as he dares

He’ll carry within him
The state of her grace
The memories find him
The shape of her face

The scent of her clean flesh
The heat of her breasts
The curve of her mouth
As her lips on him rest

The twist of her hair
Her eyes looking up
He looking down
On her beauty to sup

Her breath soft and catching
Her smile as she takes
Her arms to enwrap him
In rapture to make

She stoops now to conquer
He rises to serve
The wait for the woman
Is what he observes

Yet the weight of that woman
Is a hard thing to bear
When his bed is all empty
For she is somewhere

Other than with him
When he wants her most
For nothing between them
Is worthy of boast

Though everything honored
Is ne’er surely lost
For the wait on the woman
Is the weight of the cost…

Alternate ending:

So he waits on the woman
Even if lost
For the wait for the woman
Is the weight of the cost

________________________________________________

This is a new poem I wrote this past weekend while lying in bed. It has a sister or companion poem that I wrote about the same time called The Deep Well, or Woman is a Deep Well.

Both shall go in my new book of poetry.

HARD LOVE (a song)

Woman you got hard love
The kind that cuts and bleeds
Woman you got hard love
The kind I’m gonna need
Woman you got hard love
Make it sting and burn
Woman you got hard love
Make me twist and turn

Woman want your love
Woman want it now
Woman you ain’t near as tough
As you pretend no how,
Yes you’re mean and angry
But you’re lonely too
I’m the man with love so strong
I’ll fix what’s wrong with you

Woman I got hard love
Love so hard it breaks
Whatever’s down inside of you
Let’s see what you can take
Woman I got hard love
You ain’t seen nothing yet
I’ll get so deep inside of you
Be begging me to quit…