their laundry or stays with them a few days.
*
63
N meets some of his women. She is not happy. They are real
Times Square whores.
*
He seems to be keeping N separate, apart. He and his best
friend share her.
*
One night he comes to the storefront all soft-spoken, a
friend. He has been thinking about our situation. We are all
standing in the dark dank middle room, near the single mattress. He wants to help us. He has an apartment in Times Square we can move into, both of us. We don’t have to do
anything for him, absolutely nothing. We can just come live
there. N defers to me to say yes or no. I say no. I have been
thinking a lot about pimps. He is unruffled. He is our friend.
If we don’t want to move in with him, it’s OK. He will think of
some other way to help us. He and N go off. I wonder if she is
going to live with him. She does now and then, for a day or
two. He is a friend. I know he adores her: I can see it. I can’t
see him pimping but for a fact he pimps so so much for what I
can see. I like him and she is loyal to him: her loyalty once
given is not breachable: her code is close to absolute, unspoken,
I have never seen it breached: it is his lost hand, the punctures
in his body, his best friend and the routine, his courtesy and
intelligence, and something in him irredeemably outside: she
even does their laundry. I say to her, you know, N, about
pimps. Don’t worry, she says, yeah I know.
I would believe her except for the smack. She doesn’t do it
regular but who knows what it takes, not much. He is besotted
with her but the smack is easy: and he isn’t any fool. I ask N
what his girls on the street are like. She frowns, looks down.
*
He shows me his drawings, pen sketches, elaborate and skillful,
images of horror and death. I show him my poems: the same.
N plays her clarinet. These are family times.
He sits in the coffeehouse, in the bar, wherever, as we come
and go: bringing money back: he doesn’t touch it and buys his
own coffee.
*
What else can I do? he says solemnly. I can’t dance anymore.
*
I wait for him to mention the apartment again: to seduce, to
convince. Then I will know. He doesn’t. He is either sincere or
