Boy in the window! Hey. I like your sweater, it suits you 
quite nice. Did you pick out the display and arrange it 
yourself for all the crowds you would watch walk by? I 
wish I had a window. I'd decorate it with trinkets. I 
wish I had a window on SW Broadway near the bus mall. And 
when it is summer you're in glasses, aviators. I sigh 
when I spot you 'cause I know that you have never seen 
the sky. Your hair is cut so clean that I am assured 
you'll reveal it's a wig. It never ever grows, and I am 
quite jealous; I'm sure you must get this all the time. I 
wish I had a window. I'd decorate it with crumpled 
newspapers. I wish I had a window where I'd sit and do 
the crossroads for the day. You're looking dashing in 
your denim, in your hand a bouquet of synthetic flowers, 
never wilting. Never will these things decay. I wish I 
had a window. I'd prep it early and stock it. I wish I 
had a window, but I could never stand as still as you do. 
My legs have a limit, and my back is falliable at most. 
You're like a sergeant wearing a jacket, and I offer you 
a toast 'cause I'd get demoted to general, to private, to 
KP duty  but you alone never falter, in your designer 
cardigan sleeveless, all confidence and a blank-eyed 
state.