apologies to Robert Hass

Pickpocket—
it’s not you,
it’s me

j crew
j crowded

Skateboarders—
you are the slaves
of skateboards!

Seen
through a movie screen:
one hundred million dollars worth of crap

Shoplifted half the day;
no one
punished me!

All the time I pray to Jesus
I keep on
reading US Weekly

Even in New York, New York—
I long for New York, New York

Discarded flyers—
all that’s left
of pornographer’s dreams.

How awkward it looks
throwing up—
the rich girl

Frozen bank account—
I’d borrow
the stripper’s dollars

Free vodka,
can’t see my hands
—interesting!

Don’t worry, ATM’s,
I play poker
poorly

Sound of a buffet;
old people,
four p.m.

Engaged bachelor,
snow
in both nostrils

Don’t know about the people
but all the buildings here
are enormous

You go,
I stay;
two lawyers