He calls his boytoy Charlie Hanoi. 
At night they sail in a creaky dhow; 
afternoons, dance madly to Hullabaloo. 
They rub and love till their bodies are raw, 
refer to themselves as Baudelaire and Rimbaud, 
use fake accents, eat butter-dipped escargot. 
A world of their own with one fatal flaw: 
this life of didgeridoo and cockatoo? Untrue 
as Palm Springs needing a snowplow. 
At least in his dreams, he’s full of joy. 

Bio: Scott Wiggerman