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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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