Gay on the Bay by Floyd Shadmoor
he day after the storm pillows of clouds rolled out over the bay. Passing overhead they looked like a seagull’s chest; convex and sparkling white after a good dumpster meal, and as the clouds pushed east towards Europe, hovering over the thin crust of Connecticut on the horizon, they transformed into something even grander; giant breasts of whipped cream full to the nipple with milk, begging for release. A beautiful spring day to be sure…
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