Happy Sunday

I was recently asked to write a poem fashioned after Elizabeth Bishop's "An Invitation for Miss Marianne Moore." Though the refrain fluctuates, I am relatively pleased with how the piece turned out. Comment, critique?

"For You, From Me, Cordially"
by Steven Scott

Josh, come meet me
in Memphis where you can sense
the permeating pit
barbecue & the sweet vermouth
scent as it rolls off my grandmother’s tongue
when she reaches
to kiss your cheeks

Josh, come see me soon
bear your long hair,
your dead, red cowboy
killers—I still recall
the way you tried to stifle
the odor in your baby
(was it blue?) truck

Josh, come see me
because the world is our
ashtray & I’ve been meaning to steal
the Times’ crossword (we never had
the $. twenty-five)

Josh, do you remember
when my grandmother taught
us how to make a Manhattan
up? I do.

Josh, do you remember
when we used to drive
drunk like high school
cruise-control, case
open, between my legs

Josh, do you remember,
were we invincible? no
careful hand of God
nor Devil could touch
this or that
or us

Josh, come see me
with your wallet empty always
& your eyes full like life
come see me with your beard
burned now by the butt
of this cigarette

Come see me, Josh
we’ll make manhattans (count them, 3 rocks)
our skin can grow
old
& gray & tainted
like distance

***