Summer in Brooklyn

If I have pissed you off

I would consider my mission accomplished.

We have done this before

I’ve screamed on your face, left my trails of torment,

You pretended to ignore and worst,

Spilled your beans to people full of beans

I’ll always hate them for.

Let’s not spoil it anymore,

I’ll stop complaining, you’ll stop hating

We won’t discuss it,

I won’t keep you awake,

Don't send me letter of acknowledgment,

You must be stupid to think it will call us even.  

Lock your lips with mine; we’ll talk for hours,

We’ll lock ourselves for a week, in bed with room-service.

Just like old days in Brooklyn Heights,

Sushi on Hicks Street, dumplings in China Town,

Mojito uptown, Gay bars downtown,

You and F train off to work, me cooking hot dinner.

Mothers of six, kids on strollers,

Men with long sideburns making a pass,

Coney Island beach, boardwalk yesterday

Verizona Bridge from Bay Parkway today.

Refunds at Comic book stores,

Duane Reed and reading all about Trojan condoms.

BAM and strip pokers at home,

Free concerts and alcohol in pet bottles.

Central Park, Pretty Puerto Ricans and all that drums,

Prospect Park and a walk we both remember.                                                                                         

Our very own chauffeur, angry songs in chorus,

Your best friend in the city, 

cool roommate to hang out with.

Married couples were jealous,

How good we looked together,

We hated phone calls,

Them inviting us over.

We made plans for Boston,

To friends with couch and free dinner.

My flight was due on 15th

We waited for another summer.  

It’s been three years already,

We have waited long enough.

I’ll be off to work in DC, Virginia;

See me at least in Grand Central or La Guardia.

January 07, 2011