Hold me closer, Tony Danza, tell me
what’s on every last bit of your mind.
Call me a taxi if I’ve said too much
on the talk show you still host, even now,
in the darkened conversation pit here
in your apartment, under all the
framed photos of you and Judith Light.
People say I look something like her,
Tony, and the other good thing is
I’ll never make you ask it, the question
that defines and haunts you, years later.
You and I, dear, you and I will know.
Also, I’m pretty sure I’m going to miss the next three days of the two challenges I’m doing, and will catch up later. I have some travel coming up, and while I can write under those circumstances, it’s often not the best.