Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Zhai Yongming

Photograph

in it:
a man has just finished
his promiscuous game     today
he has thrown out half a dozen condoms
he relies on them     the way
he relies on his own toys
he relies on them    the way
women rely on their high-heeled boots

on the back:
a man     in the dark
fondles his old age appreciatively     he believes
the tabloid data     that ever increasing
sexual potency     makes his hair stand erect
and so for the sake of statistics
his only choice is to feel like a young man again

lighting a cigarette
I place the photograph in a drawer
now     I continue to manipulate
that naked blue body
his muscles (built recently)
grips tightly that hand which digs into it
his skin (again washed)
casts off the skins east and western within
my spleen and my stomach
sniff at his cheap eau de toilette
my shutter, however, is unwilling
this goes to show: your fade ins and fade outs
have nothing to do with me

at any time     he is prepared to pounce
penetrating that piece of glass
to become my thin pancake

PHOTOGRAPH

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Photograph

in it:
a man has just finished
his promiscuous game     today
he has thrown out half a dozen condoms
he relies on them     the way
he relies on his own toys
he relies on them    the way
women rely on their high-heeled boots

on the back:
a man     in the dark
fondles his old age appreciatively     he believes
the tabloid data     that ever increasing
sexual potency     makes his hair stand erect
and so for the sake of statistics
his only choice is to feel like a young man again

lighting a cigarette
I place the photograph in a drawer
now     I continue to manipulate
that naked blue body
his muscles (built recently)
grips tightly that hand which digs into it
his skin (again washed)
casts off the skins east and western within
my spleen and my stomach
sniff at his cheap eau de toilette
my shutter, however, is unwilling
this goes to show: your fade ins and fade outs
have nothing to do with me

at any time     he is prepared to pounce
penetrating that piece of glass
to become my thin pancake

Photograph

in it:
a man has just finished
his promiscuous game     today
he has thrown out half a dozen condoms
he relies on them     the way
he relies on his own toys
he relies on them    the way
women rely on their high-heeled boots

on the back:
a man     in the dark
fondles his old age appreciatively     he believes
the tabloid data     that ever increasing
sexual potency     makes his hair stand erect
and so for the sake of statistics
his only choice is to feel like a young man again

lighting a cigarette
I place the photograph in a drawer
now     I continue to manipulate
that naked blue body
his muscles (built recently)
grips tightly that hand which digs into it
his skin (again washed)
casts off the skins east and western within
my spleen and my stomach
sniff at his cheap eau de toilette
my shutter, however, is unwilling
this goes to show: your fade ins and fade outs
have nothing to do with me

at any time     he is prepared to pounce
penetrating that piece of glass
to become my thin pancake
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