Some more BBQ verse. One must first understand this is fiction. Have
edited it as hard as I can for now, so critical comments most welcome,
as usual. Seeing it come back to me also helps, if that helps?
(But I will admit his name was Gary. He had the most beautiful face,
curly dark blond hair and an inch shorter then me... to give a secret
away; we sat together through eternal pure math lectures, and it was
cold, and then dropped out, dropping purple cones and micro dots... LSD.)
* * *
Lovers of myself; dead do they suffocate me?
He swims naked in tan flesh in the long ocean beach
and can I still remember him? Did I really live longer
lover of me in my past I remember you still in drug
induced sleep, illness his old age; memories back
alive, like now, should I feel the shame of wiping
old man tears from my eyes. I feel this shame;
they are dead; it should be me, what I did to
survive as that which should be dead, are told.
Sunflower's life defy and still it remains. There,
eternally there; he says the beautiful and touching
short films of teenage coming out and first loves;
he remembers the name of his first love again how
it feels, again that feeling. Should this be his
triumphant first love; again. Saying old love, in
years as fresh as first infatuations of adolescence;
while being taught in the cold lecture theater.
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