Sex, in General

It only took a day for me to care
As much about Petraeus, and the few
Within the cheating, jealous retinue
That he had here created, unaware
That it would capture all the world’s attention,
Being, as it was, a mini soap – 
As Kim, or Chloe, Snooki – as the hope
That televised reality would mention
Anything to hinder my belief
That I’d be better off intoxicated,
Drunk philosophizing, unabated
By the shameful parody of grief.
It’s quite enough to make me quit the news
When general sex is all I’ve to peruse.