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elderly man
tottering keeping
his foothold
in crowded streetcar.
in a turn he looses
his balance.

a plastic bag
is ripped open
and vomits some dvd.

naked boys
fall on the floor.

the man quickly stoops
and rises with
a red head.

the bystanders
look in silence.
faces, no voices
only a pounding noise.

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the bachelor

on the couch he bolts his food
too much drink does him no good
he watches men from behind the glass
remembers the past that's gone, alas

when love could've be, he'd had objections
against freckels, hair, or skin complexions
a voice, a nervous tic, a scent,
he sought perfection wither he went

time made scratches on his skin
his chest is slowly falling in
he sees the young men in the street
and knows that life will not repeat.

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the boys are misty
the men are twisty
it's dark and damp
talk is camp
slobbering guys
horny eyes
they steam and burn
empty hands return
they're dying for kisses
their fire hisses
sweaty chest
they will not rest