What was is… since 1930;the boys in my old gangare senior partners. They start upbald like baby birdsto embrace retirement.
At the altar of surrender,
I met youin the hour of credulity.
How your misfortune came out clearlyto us at twenty.
At the gingerbread casino,how innocent the nights we made iton our Vesuvio martiniswith no vermouth but vodkato sweeten the dry gin—the lash across my facethat night we adored . . .soon every night and all,when your sweet, amorous repetition changed.
