to proud to beg

i was
pushing a dead weight
and lifting The Bell Jar high over my head
my sheets felt counterbalanced and
unmade on top of my bed
i painted my lips red
a pillow fluffed inside my studio
i listened to the radio talking about a Texas rodeo
a breeze arrived from the deep south
i took a friendly woman
and i kissed her on the mouth
she had traveled from the country
a hundred million miles or more away
and she asked me if i loved her
and i knew exactly what to say
and every time that i indulged her
she asked for a lengthy rest
she kept losing her interest
but i continued to give it my best
then my arm chair suffered a breakdown
it could no longer sit still
i watched her carry it away
over the crest of the nearest hill
and that was the last time that i saw her
i kept searching for some advice
i wondered "Should I have followed?"
but i couldn't go there more than twice.
i soon found myself at a gravesite
saw my arm chair discarded without a leg
but the caretaker wanted a small fortune
and i was too proud to beg!