The cold gets to me
and I tuck both hands in
and secretly finger the
torn tab. Third Row eight.
You're playing rhytmn
in your pink fazzled glory
and dark black denim skirt.
'Shattered Lifes' of
poser punks. Boo. Move on.
And as the raunchy screams
die to silence, you take the stage
and their breaths away.
A lewd whistle
and jealous girlfriends glare
as you tune your guitar.
Applause! Shakes the hall,
guys woot and cheer encore
encore encore. A solid track
of astonished delight
divine rapture. It was your voice
they would say-- much later.
In the orgasmic celebration
you're swept off and away! I'm
left standing, alone now
in the dark forgotten hall.
Your frantic eyes shoke me
I'll be back!
so I took my jacket off
and ten minutes later my shirt
and waited shivering for
the urgent
of your
leathered feet in
the misery
of our

Inspired by the jazz classic Fever. Heard most recently by Michael Buble!