fabulous 49er

robbing thoughts from yesterday, yestermonth from the infamous scribble book...
___

vasectomating
reflectomating
as my head sways along to the jerky streetcar's swan song

i wear my numb eyelids lightly,
hoping i look like marilyn monroe
but probably looking like a half-assed narcoleptic

and thinking about him, stupid him:
my fabulous 49er...

tucked away under your helmet
dusted with golden dreams
and the blood of a thousand shattered hearts
(most of them yours)

remember never days,
stolen nights, hidden afternoons
and that booty call
– who was more surprised,
the horny youngster
or the acquiescing old man?

exceptional, inconceivable, delicious
oh the fabulous fucking we’ve shared
but now a toast;
red wine in golden goblets for my 49er,
always and nevermore,
fitful flailing friendship for the friendless…