It may be the culture but I think you wise The day you crept close to me I found my mind silent Wanting to run my hands through your soul The jazz wails with Miles and Coltrane behind Singing of youthful times Of all things pure and silk…

The words will come when my mind is clear I’ll paste them up on the door But I know as I wait I’ve loved you for all that once was

The man in Sears can cite Rousseau And play Rameau on a fifth of scotch He can read my Latin and write in glyphs And knows the ERA of those Red Sox He can cater to the most expensive tastes And ask you questions of intelligent design He…