Oh, what a night,
what a fun, fund-raising, barn-burning
night.
“Oh what a night,
You know I didn’t even know
her name
But I was never gonna
be the same
What a lady, what a night!”
Oh, what a night? It was
so special you didn’t even
know the lady’s name
while you remembered the
month but not even which day,
just toward the end of the month?
Was it before or after Christmas?
During Christmas break?
You were never going to be the same?
Because you were no longer a virgin boy?
You didn’t even ask her name?
Maybe she was “Lady of the Night”;
well, even that’s better than generic lady
How about names for you —
teen-age chauvinist, misogynistic
male? Were any females
really listening; were the blue
hairs on the set listening
to your coming of age silly saga
or were they just bouncing
to the back beat?
Oh, what a shame,
late Dec. 1963
what a pitiful night for thee
that all you could think
of was that you were in heat
and that you would
never be the same —
what a total, unadulterated,
tawdry,
adolescent shame,
and as for the
fund drive, just keep bouncing
that blue-haired mane
and don’t ever listen to
the lyrics.
They might drive you
insane.
But, hey, it was ’63,
and boys were just boys,
and the network needs
the money for
season six of Downton Abbey.