Driving Loafers

Living as a lunatic 
Wandering through these whipped-up mazes 
In my saturnine stilettos 

I am wading through the water 
On the parquet of your old apartment
Mop and pail in performance of a scripted 

Scenery where you are voiding all the answers
Drinking water to resolve my 
Gin and tonic problems;

Tonight you purchased self-importance 
From a vitrine in a vintage store 
California King size promises

Casting off your sentimental loafers
Beating off the houseflies in your garden 
Acting cool and chic

Claiming I shall culture you as if
Your ballsy high-stakes haircut
Did not interrupt my memory;

Maybe someday you shall teach me Spanish 
And we’ll fancy all the languages in fashion 
Carving you into an overnight translation expert 

Hiding in the CIA
As if you haven’t had great things to say: 
“Those gin and tonics were too much.”

Acting as if I am entertaining 
As if you would admit that I am entertaining!
“It’s so hot in here”—instead.

But don’t you have a thermostat?
Aren’t there buttons you can press
Or do you relish in complaining of the heat? 

Your apartment is a New York problem 
Yet if buildings were made modern in Chicago 
Why then is your thermostat all fucked

But do you have a pool 
And would you take me out to tennis 
Float me out on the marina

Tie me to a sailboat with your sailing shackle 
So I cannot capsize all my feelings 
But do you stand out amidst sailors

When sailing can look wicked easy 
When the sliding door is fully open
And your bedroom becomes rather hot 

And if you had a balcony 
You’d be calling Romeo! when you are all exhausted 
And tonight I might not sleep 

I expected you to call me up tomorrow 
Yet you may have passed out on your balcony 
And maybe I’ll be back 

Once there’s no more water on the floors