A girl
with French teeth
and dandelions
in her hair
stops
a black sportscar
beside me
on the street
and says,
Get in.
Where are
we going?
I ask.
To my place,
she answers.
We drive
through the tunnel
and go
all the way out
to 1,000,000th
Broadway.
Her apartment
is nice.
There are
original Klees
and Picassos
hanging
on the walls.
She has
a thousand books
and a Hi-Fi set.
I would
make love
to you,
she says,
but I have
cement
in my vagina.
We drink
coffee
from little cups
and she reads
Apollinaire
to me
in French.
She is
very beautiful
but the dandelions
are starting
to wilt
in her hair.
-Richard Brautigan
I often smoke out my window. I tie the sheers back with scarves and sit at the base with a glass of water and Bon Iver or sometimes my French tapes. I watch people come and go with their dogs and books. I'll start to worry about my roommates smelling the cigarettes, but then I remember that I don't care.
