Foolish.

And sometimes I’m so easy,

As to kiss beneath the Midnight Cowboy,

Half-collapsed in the doorway,

Of the 2:05 a.m. sort,

All the shadows become a third party,

And as we’re doing something foolish,

In the running of a population of fools,

Ignore the stampede,

Kiss the droves goodnight,

Wave, whatever-

Just don’t remove

Anything intertwined

Of me.

And you.