i went to Gratzi
and i wore my
tennis shoes.
i felt bad,
mucking up their
pretty atmosphere.
but not bad enough
to put on a
goddamn
pair of heels.
I went to the Symphony
in an old building
that I realized as I sat there
I had drunkenly met your parents in
four years ago.
And the symphony was a lofty thing-
all about heaven and hell,
death and resurrection,
and I couldn't help but wonder,
as I sat in that red velvet chair
remembering days gone by,
why no one ever writes a symphony
about sex...
as if i need say why.
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