Someone in New York City Is Thinking Of You

Someone in New York City Is Thinking Of You


I think one of my plants is gay
because he loves Pellegrino
and is extremely photogenic.

When I killed off all his friends 
(since I was always in Miami)
I decided it was time for sparkling.

He deserved it! He hung on!
And now he watches me writing poems
from the window sill where he is truly happy. 

I wish I had you like I have my plant. 
We would take baths in Pellegrino 
and walk to the Met to see the Cubism show

even though we both hate Cubism. 
You’re not a blond but sometimes 
in the afternoon light I imagine you 

as Richard Gere in American Gigolo.
I guess he wasn’t blond either.
I guess it doesn’t matter what you are

as long as you’re naked
and somewhere in France eating oranges.
We would be there forever.

Naked and French and all our friends 
would call to say: boys! Don’t you think
you’ll come home now?

But we’ll never come home. 
Never call back. We just wouldn’t care.
We’ll drink Perrier like the locals.