LA DOLCE VITA

You’d like to meet her
On the Spanish Steps in Rome
That’s what they call
La Dolce Vita
Learn a little Italian, son
And you’ll be on the right path
To La Dolce Vita

I hear you’re a poet,
A painter; the paintings sell
But the poems, well...
Go on, ask her
If she knows Dante
Or Michelangelo
You’ll hear her answer: Armani, Gucci,
Cardin—you fool

She loves Ferraris
Expensive restaurants
Modeling gigs
'Terza rima' won’t keep
Her yacht, her boat afloat
Vain and conceited, she ought to
Blush like a tomato, Pomodoro

Hit the books again, son
And find a lovely reader
In the library or at the poetry festival
Festivals are part
Of La Dolce Vita
For the right girl...
Ciao, I hope you meet her
On the Spanish Steps
Or on that beautiful island, Capri