It was a blue sun that day

I was left in the purple mountains

By the baddest boy in West Virginia

And I thought to myself

Where have they gone

Those tiny bright souls swinging in willows

Piecing together bones bleached in white lace summertime

Without art I walked on

In the hot black smoke that spoke to me

And suddenly I was so old

In the truck stop stall I sang “The Chain” over and over

And men carried me back to their sunken love dens

At night their skins grew strange and peeled and I tended them

I brushed their hair and told them it’s going to be okay

I danced in jeweled glasses and silver coats

I blew them hollow and heaving and they said hey nice job fag

You’re the hottest fag there ever was

And asked me to stay forever and I did

Mitchell Glazier

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