Don't Know Where It Came From


Boys on Sunday

There is something rather imposing about two pretty boys, gay boys, bathing boys as they linger down by the pool. There is a constant awareness of their supremeness, their attractiveness and the upward swing of desire they cause.

They move in synchronized beats, footsteps, hair flips. They cause ripples in the water and in the sun respectively. They are put out by the small children as they wander the pool edge. It is easier to hide in the deep end then let the toddlers tramp through their sun and shade.

The question of gay or straight lingers. I doubt that any breeder boys put this much effort in appearance. And yet as I wait them out—the boys try to do handstands—to impress each other and themselves. It digresses into full belly flops and splash contests. This is oddly endearing and annoying. Should they know better? This from the unwanted and unknown audience.