Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The seduction of boys v: the virile tradition

To go from my farm to almost anywhere,
I pass through a country crossroads
with more churches than potato chips,
and I sometimes stop for a local paper.
I found this at the lottery counter,
where our elderly and poor go to pray.

Take the trouble to expand the final im-
age. It has everything. Equine Potency. 
Military Honour. Cowboy Romance. Elation
of Risk. Marksmanship. When I snaffled 
this seduction of boys, I remarked to
the merchant that it made me sentimental. 
That put him at ease. I wanted him that 
way. I still had to get out of his town.

Next to the congenital gothic revanchism
of the diabetic American South, nothing
compares, remotely, to fashion photography
when it comes to the seduction of boys to
embrace this heartbreaking habit. From the
houndstooth junkie of yore to the rogue
of redhead randiness, this is never going
to end, I know. People like to see a man 
with who courts a brutal death so blithely.

But I would think, the fashion proletariat
would rise up, as they say, and contemplate
its own exploitation in this unamusing abuse.


  1. are candy cigarettes still available? We used to have them all the time. And I'm not a smoker now.

  2. I can only imagine the suspicion you aroused when you took your shot. Highly irregular. No doubt you turned on the Southern charm after 14 years an acquisition you've embraced. We need it to get by. The cigarette is that prop for the nerves I've never indulged in-but the candy cigarettes I have- and would have all that stuff appeals to my sense of theatre-or should I say film-especially the cowboy romance.