Things I Wrote, Once Upon a Time

You'd be my invisible man
and I'd hate the way you talk.
We could live inside the subway
in a house we'd drawn in chalk.

We could have sex in the sewers
and sleep in broken cars
(hell--if it weren't for pollution
we could probably see the stars).

And you'd stand in the shadows while
I yearned for Robert Frost--
like Simon, we'd use bookmarks
without knowing what was lost.

With one foot in the wasteland
you could watch me slowly walk
back into the subway
to the house we'd drawn in chalk.

And early in the morning
when we were falling out of bars
we'd curse the damned pollution
(for denying us the stars).