Sung to the tune of Cake’s Short Skirt/Long Jacket
I want a guy with
a brain from Chicago
I want a guy who
knows all the answers
I want a guy with
black Velcro Pumas
and eyes that seek
like guided missiles
I want a guy with
the right left leanings
who’s slow and deliberate
and hot as Sriracha
He’s checking
his Piaget
He’s smoothing the creases
He’s checking the layout
and lining up funds
I want a guy with black jeans
And a white shirt
I want a guy who
wants to sleep in
I want a guy who
can wait up late
I want a guy
with found money
Who never speaks softly
when shouting will do
With hands that
press hard
And a timbre
that shakes me
He may be wrong
but I doubt it
He’s looking at numbers
And holding all calls
I want a guy with black jeans
And a very white shirt
I want a guy who’s
A real S.O.B.
I want a guy with
the tough-guy persona
At the gallery
we’ll pause simultaneously
when both of us like
the same Basquiat
He wants a bike
by Ducati
He wants wheels
that go
He’s writing acknowledgments
for his debut novel
He’s choosing who’ll come
to the party at Buddha
I want a guy with black jeans
And a very, very white shirt
