I was browsing in Book Soup
On Sunset boulevard in West Hollywood
And pressed up against Bruce Springsteen
Quite by accident one evening.
He was so tiny
And just slightly pungent
(The merest hint of patchouli?)
And looked like such a charming gypsy
Or free-spirited hippy artisan,
That I thought, ³Yeah, I¹d do you, little man...²
Which was surprising
Since I do not normally think
In such language,
And certainly never before
And never again
In terms of Bruce Springsteen.

Later that very same night
I had a dream I was a male model
On a Bruce Weber shoot in New Jersey.
He approached me, knocked me down
And pulled down my pants,
His beard kissing ever so gently
(In front of all the stylists and teamsters)
And I remember thinking,
³Just how rude is this one going to get?².
I could feel the acorns and twigs
Digging into my back
like knuckles and fists.
I could see the tops of the trees
way over our heads,
Letting in just a fraction of the blue sky.
Maple leaves the size of dress-shields.
Maple leaves the size of wind-screens.

- James Brian

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Rob Roth for The Jackie Factory ©1995
Moved to and updated February 2000