When I was 16 and an artist
I dressed in black
And took the D train
From the Bronx to Greenwich Village.
I carried a sketchbook and
Rapidograph pen and drew
Fellow passengers on the long ride downtown.
One Saturday as I was walking on Bleeker Street
A man caught up to me.
I have been following you he said
Could not take my eyes off your derrière
I am a diplomat from Haiti
My name is Louis and I think I love you.
We went to his apartment arm in arm
And I discarded my black turtleneck sweater
And black corduroy pants
On the floor
Said I love you too.