Romantic Men Poem by James McLain

why are women attracted to me
knowing i've got scars
and a history of a felonious
back ground forty year's past
and my long, romantic nights?

it's not the smooth words or
the fake charm
or the lonely whiskey,
but maybe they see the
edge in me
and it turns them on like
a switchblade in the dark.

they want the hard part of the tree
that is never soft,
parting the bush, watching
the mouth of the salamander open
and go into the hole
and not come out for hour's
at a time.

they want the dangerous
and the broken,
the ones who've seen it all
and still stand tall
on the cracked streets
because the nasty clean ones
are so goddamn boring.

so they come to me,
and i let them—
what else is there
for them to do?