GOLDEN AGE

What's an old man like you doing

In The Garden of Love, Venus, Adonis

Dallying, nymphs and swains in postures

Of amor, dripping rivulets and reeds.

Alessandro Scarlatti, you can't fool me

With your classical allusions -- I know,

At the beginning of my own old age,

That your neighbor's daughter inspired

Your serenata, her plump breasts,

Because, when I first heard the lift

Of this music -- trumpets, two sopranos,

Strings -- it was like meeting (what in

the) another st-stunning young face.