Green Grass by the Fence

You used to smoke cigarettes
wear clothes quite revealing
drive fast with no seat belt
often double dealing,
a lover on each coast
a couple in the middle
damn I liked the way
you used to play my fiddle,

Late at night writing
poetry and prose
late at night sniffing
our paycheck up our nose,
early morning sex
on the couch, or on the floor
sometimes I’d leave disgruntled
but then come back for more,

That was forty years ago
early seventy-two
we thought we were so smart
that we knew what to do,
that was Viet Nam
Nixon, cities ablaze
twelve men on the moon
with the amplitude and phase,

Of our strange attraction
way far out of sync
the tide of changing times
running down the sink,
but little did we know
forty years hence
we’d both still be grazing
in green grass by the fence,