PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

[after Constantine Cavafy's poem, "One Of Their Gods," trans. Keeley and Sherrard]

At the edge of dusk leading to starlight,

one of the erotic Muses appeared in the

wishfully suburban precincts of the

small farming village, which had occupied this

land since before statehood; and everyone

knew all the local gossip and often created

some of their own.  And they were certain this

person was a visitor: hair cascading below his

shoulders (clearly a violation of the high

school's dress code, to which, given his

appearance, he should have been compliant);

clad in a white dinner jacket, a sleeveless

mesh tee, and very new, "skinny-style" jeans;

defiantly barefoot, but with a pair of semi-sheer

socks in one hand, to be put on when he arrived at

wherever he was going.  Then, in spite of themselves,

they thought of the young Poet (you know the type:

awkward, clumsy, four-eyed, more often than not---

queer, and bullied since kindergarten; the kid always

chosen last, if at all, for games, the kid who

could never successfully climb the rope in Gym).  The

Muse, like his Poet, was definitely Homosexual; and the

neighborly folks of this out of the way rural village

wondered how such an ugly, ungainly bookworm could

deploy words to summon such exquisitely attractive

male beauty . . . .

J*Called