Never Been A Boy Scout.
The boy clad in beige asked, ‘might I be of assistance, Ma’rm?’
As she stood rooted where Broadway and West intersect.
Like good Sir Galahad the lad bowed, and she extended an arm;
The perfect gentleman is something New York girls don’t expect.
He looked left, then right, and then she felt more, not less alarm,
Oh boy, Don IS incorrigibly politically (and anatomically) incorrect.