Black Mercedes

Black Mercedes


Somewhere in Monti
I was lost like Monica Vitti.
Smiled so the Italians loved me.
Wore my crucifix under my linen.
God was very far away.
1.2 miles exactly. 
I unbuttoned my shirt 
and walked through the piazzas. 
Licked the sweat off my lip.
Licked my fingers 
after eating a pastry.
God was in a black Mercedes.
In an Adidas tracksuit. 
That’s all he told me.
Asked if I was boyish 
so I sent him a photo. 
Down Via Cavour
I looked at every black car 
and tugged at my dick.
The boys glistened. 
I took a piss by someone’s Vespa. 
I want to find you
I typed out in Google translate.
Voglio trovarti. Then nothing. 
God went silent. 
My shirt was drenched.
The city was burning. 
Someone’s father smoked 
a cigarette and read the newspaper.
Baby. Won’t you tell me the news.