I would disturb the streets by
passing by so pretty kids
on stolen petty cash would look
at me like foreign
writing in the sky
I would forget my furs on any chair.
I would ignore the doormen at the knob
the social sanskrit of my life
unwilling to disclose my cosmetology,
I would forget.
Over my wine I would acquire
I would inspire big returns to equity
the equity of capital I am
accustomed to accept
like wintertime.
I would do nothing.
That would be enough.