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the girls
there can be no existence with these dogs
dragging these blue bones, the flowers all
bend left in the wind and look tired and
the phone rings, it's Pauline down at
Ye Ol' Stagger Inn:
"I'd like to see you, Frank ...."
it's one thirty p.m. and I drive down to
Hollywood and Cherokee and walk in and
Pauline is sitting with Alta and Alta
flashes me the big false smile and Pauline
just sits looking down into her margarita.
they are both drinking margaritas.
I sit down next to Pauline.
"what is it?"
"some asshole's been bugging me, so I
thought if you came by you'd get him off me."
Alta bends her head down around Pauline and
flashes me another false heavy lipstick smile.
"how ya doin', Frank?"
"look," I say to Pauline, "I never saw a guy yet
you couldn't drive off."
"you just don't know," she says.
I get a whisky and soda from the barkeep.
Hollywood at one thirty five p.m. is a big
tomb full of stink bombs.
"I'm going back to Cleveland," says Alta,
"I'm going to get straight ... hey, ya got a
cigarette?" I push the pack down to her.
Pauline just sits there, nobody says anything
at all. I finish my drink, stand up and dig
out a tip for the barkeep:
"well, girls, I got to be going ...."
"wait a minute, Frank," says Pauline.
"what is it?"
"I want you to pay for our drinks, we've had
8 or 9 drinks and a bowl of chili apiece ...."
"how about a little song on the juke box
instead?" "Frank, we don't have any money ...."
"you'd be surprised how many people there are
in the world like that ...."
"the bill is $18.50 and I only have $9."
"here," I say and I drop a dollar bill out
of my wallet in front of her. As I walk out
of there I hear Alta say, "don't be pissed,
Frank ...."
I get to my car, get in and drive off and I
turn the radio on and can't hear a thing,
then I remember I have been in a car wash
and I reach outside and pull the aerial up
and the radio begins to play.
you know, there can be no chance when the
cobra sleeps under your pillow, and there
can be no mercy when the only mercy is
yours -- I have slept in the alleys of the
world and never begged a dime, and the
trouble with whores who have no taste for
their work, they ought to get on as
waitresses at Norm's.
I pull up outside my liquor store
and go in for some
decency.
© Frank Silvanski
dragging these blue bones, the flowers all
bend left in the wind and look tired and
the phone rings, it's Pauline down at
Ye Ol' Stagger Inn:
"I'd like to see you, Frank ...."
it's one thirty p.m. and I drive down to
Hollywood and Cherokee and walk in and
Pauline is sitting with Alta and Alta
flashes me the big false smile and Pauline
just sits looking down into her margarita.
they are both drinking margaritas.
I sit down next to Pauline.
"what is it?"
"some asshole's been bugging me, so I
thought if you came by you'd get him off me."
Alta bends her head down around Pauline and
flashes me another false heavy lipstick smile.
"how ya doin', Frank?"
"look," I say to Pauline, "I never saw a guy yet
you couldn't drive off."
"you just don't know," she says.
I get a whisky and soda from the barkeep.
Hollywood at one thirty five p.m. is a big
tomb full of stink bombs.
"I'm going back to Cleveland," says Alta,
"I'm going to get straight ... hey, ya got a
cigarette?" I push the pack down to her.
Pauline just sits there, nobody says anything
at all. I finish my drink, stand up and dig
out a tip for the barkeep:
"well, girls, I got to be going ...."
"wait a minute, Frank," says Pauline.
"what is it?"
"I want you to pay for our drinks, we've had
8 or 9 drinks and a bowl of chili apiece ...."
"how about a little song on the juke box
instead?" "Frank, we don't have any money ...."
"you'd be surprised how many people there are
in the world like that ...."
"the bill is $18.50 and I only have $9."
"here," I say and I drop a dollar bill out
of my wallet in front of her. As I walk out
of there I hear Alta say, "don't be pissed,
Frank ...."
I get to my car, get in and drive off and I
turn the radio on and can't hear a thing,
then I remember I have been in a car wash
and I reach outside and pull the aerial up
and the radio begins to play.
you know, there can be no chance when the
cobra sleeps under your pillow, and there
can be no mercy when the only mercy is
yours -- I have slept in the alleys of the
world and never begged a dime, and the
trouble with whores who have no taste for
their work, they ought to get on as
waitresses at Norm's.
I pull up outside my liquor store
and go in for some
decency.
© Frank Silvanski
