Fantasy

Forever is the saddest word

The poem's not worth it

I'd like to read to you

What Andy Warhol said

About the traps of the rich

But my tastes are changing

This is a love note

To a Fire Island lifeguard

Tuscano shearling

And mauve champagne

I should never talk

Even after two sips

Though that's when I can

I hate the George V hotel

But I would take you there

Then walk to the open market

Some thoughts are not that great

The Internet is my home

Where it's easy to be beautiful

And seen and new

In the glow

In the spell

I thought I was better

I guess I won't ever be

God wants us to make out

'Cause I'm in this airport

Where nobody's important

I just wrote a letter

Explaining all of this to you

In my head

The prism refracts

But the stone is cloudy

All that comes through

Are the deeper obsessions

Arvid Nordquist and dry shampoo

Cocaine and Pellegrino

This weather should have an entry

In A Lover's Discourse

A fully enclosed private garden

With direct access to the pool

Hardwood floors

Perfect light

I, like, crave you

Doesn't it ever just make you sad

Plans you had with different people

And how it all can't come true?

I want the extremes

Of pleasure

Boredom

Watching my lovers cry

I really want to show something

To the lifeguard from Fire Island

Thoughts like nectar

International cities

To stand here a young prince

Unique in spirit

Replete with hospitality

Aren't you even curious

To see my hotel room

After I swim?

Sitting on my bed

I typed

Principal Dancer

Into YouTube

And drank

To see the discourse

And the honor

Feels good

Standing at my window

What I think I will miss most

When I die

Is color

And the light

Sometimes it just comes to you

Amidst occasional instances

Of radiance or darkness

I mean

Everyone has their shit

Then enough time goes by

That's your life

Maybe I expect too much

I wouldn't know how not to

In my room

With these portraits

In gold frames

Feels like theater

MGM Pictures

The bronze light of Hollywood

1928

The future isn't real

I should walk in golden rays

Past rows of motorcycles

To Coney Island

Because I know grace

Is more real than love

It feels so real

In the morning

On Fifth Ave.

With the lifeguard

From Fire Island

Weightless in badinage

Whatever comes from

Art and life

Being can be too easy and common

Like soda

I let him come inside my world

Because they gave me a key

To Gramercy Park

Maybe tonight

I'll have a breakdown

Sometimes

I use this French product

To soften the water

When I soak in the bathtub

It is silent there

Like a tomb

Sometimes I wish

I was already in mine

Sometimes I wish

The world had a face

I could touch the cheek of

When I feel

I could be a part of it

When I cannot

And I lie in the hot water

Sometimes I wish

The pearlescent steam

Could sublimate the malaise

And the lassitude

That is there inside of me

Maybe it does

I believe it is that way

When the light touches down

Upon bunny lawns

Of Fifth Ave.

I don't care at all

About the lifeguard so much

Gravlax or Paris

I should call this friend

In Los Angeles

An aesthete who hosts parties by the pool

Copyright Credit: Ben Fama, "Fantasy" from Fantasy. Copyright © 2015 by Ben Fama. Reprinted by permission of Ugly Duckling Presse.

Source: Fantasy (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2015)