it took me twelve years
to get love right.
I put on my nice shirt
in the parking lot,
while dancing to Devendra.
not caring if the people in the building
see me from their sad windows.
it's true,
itty-biddy shit,
and a whole new world
to live in via poetry.
made love in the mix,
the long time end,
I get to be the fool again.
my Bob Dylan shirt
is falling off me,
makes me think of that
Desmond sidewalk in Brooklyn.
Don't call Suzanne,
she is married.