a boy
by David Glotzer
a boy
in the waiting room
I have the sad again
this woman sits across from me and in my mind
she says
are you him
that boy
and i said
it doesn't mean a thing
i don't care
i'm sad
i just
want to fuck
you
or
anybody
and in my mind she laughed
then smiled and looked at me
with those big beautiful
brown
eyes
they looked right through me
the music stopped
my thoughts collapsed
the world went silent
again
within this silence
emerged an aggression
a need
a basic
need
and i stood
walked over to her
and pulled her lips to mine
cold
iced
human lips for a cold
human heart
In front of everyone
i laid her on the coffee table
then ran my hand
up
her dress
my fingers
along
her cunt
and nobody paid attention
none of it happened
we just looked at each other
and in my mind
again, i
was
just
a
boy
Animalistically erotic! Reminiscent of John Berryman’s Dream Song #4, this poem unapologetically and tersely verifies the male psyche in those lonely moments when our God-given impulses course our veins like a seed spreading profligating gigolo repopulating 2nd Earth with blinder tunnel vision visers veering buck-ass naked into the warm hip-embrace of a beautiful woman–a reason for existence!
I am taken by the words used in poem–‘boy’ and ‘woman’. When does the boy become a man? What makes a man? When a boy makes love to a woman does he then become a man? Well, these are relevant questions that enter my head as i read this piece. Perhaps also, it is the boy who daydreams and does not act upon his impulses or know what the difference between the real and the imaginary are. But if we lose our imagination and our fantasies, we die and become mindless manicans bent on matching numbers and meeting deadlines. No, first a boy has to fantasize all he can and then use it as a map in the waking hours and combine and create and fuck like an animal so all the reason for being may take him to the winding staircase to a higher love and become a different man. Is it a step by step process? hmmm. In any case, primal urges dominate our biology and rule us at times.
At end of poem: “and nobody paid attention
none of it happened
we just looked at each other
and in my mind
again, i
was
just
a
boy”, the situation is spelled out for reader. But hell, i think i would have appreciated it more with just this line: “…and nobody paid attention/we just looked at each other in my mind.” That way we put the pieces together ourselves. I don’t know, i kinda like things spelled out for me sometimes too, though. Great piece! …and i’m sure she was a great piece! thx for sharing!