I’ve walked this sidewalk endlessly,
passing the Korean markets to see how
cold the rain gets, and how desperate
I am to get laid on my birthday

imagining if anyone I knew is out of town,
although most spiteful, hope to
see me sitting on the stairs in the rain
as they drive by in their expensive,
useless sedans

how desperate I am to get out of the heat,
I remember the frigid, cold nights spent
in one of our bedrooms,
“If this is California, why am I so cold?”

maybe I could find someone to keep around,
for longer than the preferred months,
each minute spent
with you
is a longer goodbye
“If this is your love, why are you so cold?”