The Train Depot

You to the country,
Where the golf courses are a lush green,
And lunch is served at the same time every day.
You can set your watch to it-
Chicken salad again.

And me to the city,
Where the bright lights burn 'round the clock,
And the familiar clink of cocktail glasses can be heard every night,
But always with a different set of faces.
Last call comes too soon.

But just this once, we'd like to cash in our tickets,
And go some place new,
Where pleasure is our only concern and our obligations are an afterthought.
The lingering miasma of our sex the only remaining remnant of our tryst.
Until we do it all over again.

But our tickets are non-refundable.