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
© Translation: 2004, Simon Patton
PHOTOGRAPH
© 2004, Zhai Yongming
Poems
Poems of Zhai Yongming
Close
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
© 2004, Simon Patton
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
© 2004, Simon Patton
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