Sunday, May 23, 2010


I saw you again on the beach today, but you didn’t see me, probably couldn’t tell me from the rest of the parents and teachers and bosses that crowd all the fun from your life.
     And yet I was once the boy I saw you with, tall and strong and horny as hell . . . that young man still, but stuck inside this decrepit shell, with a quiver of middle-aged wiles—the wine and the car and the gifts that boy couldn’t ever afford—and maybe your shortcut to the grown-up world.
     Or would you rather take the long way around?

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