Where the Grapes Dangle from Our Midsections
At the coed naked wine tasting last night
Columbian Jews leered curiously
at the boys from the 'burbs.
"I'll just flip a coin," Scott said,
"and heads I'll be straight tonight,
and tails my grape stained feet
will be feather-light."
The coin flipped gymnastically
in a grateful arc, and landed
in the museum's vice-president's
wife's wineglass, where
it was determined to predict
that Scott's sexuality for the evening
would be "ask me later."
So Scott ambled aimlessly around
this party that started out pretty fun,
and T.J. shambled home
another lonely Rockland County undone
by the wide vagaries of the City.