Folsom In the golden light, that famous golden light That made the famous famous, in an alley, Actually, but still in that light, a nude man Leans back against brick with his eyes closed, Stroking himself, his cock ring gleaming, And this isn’t weird, this is Folsom, And he’s alone not quite the way he’s alone When he’s at home because here he is alone Amongst others, including you, and this Would be enough, actually, but a boy walking By — I think we can call him a boy — stops And says, May I?