Boys Who Sing


Another angel I saw In a bee out of season Trying to move through glass. In a blind kitten Abandoned on the fairgrounds.   When I was 17 I was in love with a rock star, a singer. The first time I met him he was sitting in a church pew inside a club in New Haven. Pigeon-toed, he sat there leaning forward toward nothing, holding a Beck's beer in his hand. When we said goodbye he kissed me and held my hand for as long as it took me to walk an arm's length away. The languid fluidity, the casual soulful-ness of him would surface [...]