The two of us had things to say, And time is not for long: Tomorrow is another day To bring ill luck along.

We lay upon that beach awhile

And drank another beer,

With many a genial little smile

And many a meaning leer.

While self and sun and surf and sand

Seemed part of one delight-

I cried, "O Dreamer Beaner Boy Stay here, and stay the night!”

I met a cursed Beaner Boy Upon a cursed beach;

For he has stolen all my joy And set it out of reach.

He said "I too must now away, At last I must go home!"

I never knew a man could say That word and sound like Doom.

It was to him, it was to me Like waking from a dream,

It made us both with anguish see The gulf twixt is and seem.

For we had things to do and share Which we had scarce begun;

Now he is gone and I am bare With only sand and sun.

And what was I to him that dayWith talk and cheese and beer?

A bitter taste to throw away,

Or memory to hold dear?

I met a blessed Beaner Boy

One day on Bare-Ass Beach,

The sense of joy will never cloy-

But he is out of reach.

By the slip I'll wait, O Beaner Boy,

Where the water taxi rides,

And someday find you, Dreamer Boy-

And take you in your strides!

* Beaners: members of the Beanery Gang, a tribe of juveline delinquents in Toronto.

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