AN ELEGY FOR MY LIBIDO

Well, here it is, the Oscar race has started

and there isn’t a single movie

I’m dying to see.

What ever did I like about the winter?

There was the taste of candied yams—

but all that sugar.

The other day a young man on the bus

offered me his seat.

I was quick to take it.

Meaning that, as I sat,

his rear filled my horizon

like a khaki-colored sun.

I’ve had a profusion of dawns

in every Abercrombie hue.

Catalogues? Frankly, catalogues

are a goddamned waste.

The better I felt,

the quicker he moved away.