The Tragedy of the Too-Handsome ManI strolled around, not muscle-bound, but fit,
Some lucky woman's man, in mirrored shades
And tiny suit, beside the sea and deeply tanned.
A tasteful chain around my neck, a nod for
Those nearby. There should have been
No doubt that I would be the best vacation guy
For any poor, pale matron who had jetted
Down my way. Alas, I heard two of them
Whisper, "Don't be fooled. He's gay."
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
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Written on 2018-05-28 at 15:46
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