Crooner

Frank Sinatra was singing
The Shadow Of Your Smile
somewhere in an upstairs apartment,

ice made the fire escape slick,
the wind bit like a dog,
dark coats of night held tight,

a few cars crackled
on the otherwise lonely street
which stretched up to a traffic light,

green, yellow, red
and Frank as he looked like in 1940
kisses a girl on the thighs.