Antonio, der Gondelfahrer

I hired him, of course.
First for his looks, and then for his charms:
Honey Lombard gold, aquiline nose,
his chest a gym rat's dream,
pompom, tunic, and bell-bottoms,
not far from Genet's boast:
"The function of the French navy
is to decorate its coast."

Chatting up the concierge,
to whom I merely nodded slinking by,
Antonio seemed, as the expression goes
-- known.

There's few incentives to travel:
Shopping, food, art, and the natives.
I ate well, visited San Marcos,
and bought sheets as a reminder.

If I've written little of you here,
it's your sphincter not your heart
you open to a hustler.