He Got Boo

Him a day-long star, a cosmos circled his hips. Done doubled up as a short-order cook, waltzed like a drag queen yet he all man-child. Older ladies curled his hair, made him flex, flutter slinky brows. Thought he high-ranking short changing, slick as sesame oil. Thought he a cowboy wrangling songs in a bad bar until one sweet thing burgled his heart, stomped his jazzy junk, made him greasy for her alone, hitched him up, wore his glitter in her hair - and he not say one boo, not one, but moaned ‘yea baby.’