Fading photo
Blair shows me photo so, old; do I remember? A bit, the Tri-Delta softball game, a night on 6th street, too many drinks, and a fight.  Woman at that overrated club, “How is she punk?”
Turning to her boyfriend, you want to muzzle the bitch she’s getting on me nerves. Mate.
  He turns his back on me. Never sees the punch open palm to the ear. He screams in pain and charges me at that point a hip throw introduces him to the floor.
Hard core still going off, I am calling the police!” I just walk off her swings are clumsy and easy to deflect. I don’t fight women. A friend, Jewel’s also a hard-core girl nails her with a full can of beer, in her face.  She drops to the ground. A fiver, and a kiss to Jewels to cover her beer, and the next bar. Then we can’t go back to the sorority
Then cool spring night. A friend with a sofa. You sneaking in the morning. Me promising to show up to cheer. There I am in the stands later  a tux shirt leather jeans and black-out shades in a sea of prep.. I just watching you not the game so hung over gauloises hanging out my mouth  flask of tequila in my hand. Yeah, I remember me and you, Fire and Ice always steamy, never dull.