To Madame G

(after Alfred de Musset) I take the view that travel gets you wet. There’s also wind and dust. And in the morning, your clothes are crumpled. Is this tete-a-tete worth all the hassle? I would end up yawning! I take the view, there is no greater folly than starting an affair far out of town. Don’t go by Madame Laide or Missy Jolie, for hotel plumbing always lets you down. Sheer, well-adjusted stockings, white as milk: a pretty dress, decked out in watered silk: your toenails clean, and painted: what beats that? Or do you think I’m talking through my hat? I might as well speak Japanese to mice: what lover ever listened to advice?