PASSAGE OF YOUTH. (STRONG LANGUAGE)

[dadio]

Bill sits and waits while the young man dresses.
Out to dinner after the young fuck’s done,
Bill muses, watching the youth put on his

Underwear, the sinews of his naked
Arms inviting, the youthful jaw firm and
Strong. My father always put his socks on

First, Bill says, like some kind of ritual.
Then the underwear, those long kinds, passion
Killers, Mother used to say. Bill pauses,

Remembers his mother buttoning up
His shirt, tidying his hair, brushing off
His jacket shoulders. The youth pulls on a

Tee shirt, pushing fingers through messed up hair.
My father was all ritual; every
Thing done according to order, things in

Their place; the right kind of politics, the
Right kind of manners, the American
Way almost tattooed on his bony ass, Bill

Mutters. The young man looks at Bill but says
Nothing, pulls on his pants, buttons up, zips
Up the fly. Couldn’t get it right with him,

Bill continues, always something I said
Or done was wrong. I’ve snuffed out better men
Than him if he but knew it, all in the

Line of duty, all for the U.S.A,
As they say. The young man combs his hair, smiles,
Remembers the good fuck, the old guy still

Has it, he thinks, seeing Bill and his gaze
And his words filling the air, but him not
Listening, giving back a soft boy look

For the old guy’s words and his icy stare.

[judih]

William, ah yes
and it's said his long unrequited passion was Allen

well done, dadio

[dadio]

Thank you, judih.

[Hollweg]

Top drawer, Dadio.

[dadio]

Thank you for reading, Hollweg.