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Classic Tradition

Chicago. At the Palmer House,
Blizzard outside, wretched afternoon.
We sat on the bed to watch a movie,
Some damn thing, bored us fast.
We got to fooling around,
Made love in a fevered frenzy.
We fell asleep till six o'clock.

Wreckage. We needed a camera:
Red panties by the Bible,
My shorts on top the lamp.
Covers kicked off, pillow on the dresser.

It suggested an ancient debauch--
Couple Roman senators, three jolly whores,
Little boys and girls, possibly a goat,
Romping for hours, wine poured out on bellies,
Someone's foot in someone's face.
We'd done our part for that purple tradition.
Big Chicago storm, 1992.

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