Old queens sat upon tiled tiers in towels loosely lounging; steam poured from a pipe….. hand gestures were made as eyes roved….. young boys playing grown-up….

And then…. two…a move waiting to be moved-on…..a towel removed…revealing a stem withered….the boy voted best begins his work….yet there is no magic,Place it in your mouth, The queen demands, the man-child hesitates……then bends to proceed…..

He remembers an older brother’s requests,I’ll give you a quarter,his offer was made, laying the silver on a yellow dewy grass in darkness with a straight back leaning to a piece of panel as he plied more talk….more quarters, Come-on now…what’s holding you back?…

A hand was placed to the back of the youngsters head….wanting to stop….forced to keep going…..a brother’s laugh…..an old queen’s cackle……a pat on the head as a silent exit was made…….through a foggy glass door…..through the tiny opening of a make-believe-fort……what’s the difference?…………..

The boy voted best sat alone….in a steam-room…..in a fort …….so long ago when power was taken away and life-long demands began…..Do as you are told….’Cause you won’t find a better deal…..Anywhere……

He should have destroyed that fort a long time ago………………