Gedicht
Andy Quan
The Leg Crosser
The Leg Crosser
The Leg Crosser
Don’t cross your legs like a woman!A man’s right-angled knee
is what money is made of
the outer bump of the ankle
rested across the other leg
and just behind the knee
a wide triangular space
for the testicles to breathe.
A lady’s pose would suffocate
the thighs engulfing each other
so bold the forward knee
so wanton the free-kicking foot
you could tip out of balance
with such missing solidity.
What happened was prophecy
I tipped over
out of my own masculinity
into schoolgirl crushes on other boys.
I also crossed my arms incorrectly
like shivering instead of defence
crossed myself profanely in church
and my eyes, when crossed,
frightened rather than amused.
When I crossed my delicate fingers
long and toothy and curved like crescent moons
I wished for the unimaginable.
© 2001, Andy Quan
From: Slant
Publisher: Nightwood Editions, Madeira Park, B.C.
From: Slant
Publisher: Nightwood Editions, Madeira Park, B.C.
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The Leg Crosser
Don’t cross your legs like a woman!A man’s right-angled knee
is what money is made of
the outer bump of the ankle
rested across the other leg
and just behind the knee
a wide triangular space
for the testicles to breathe.
A lady’s pose would suffocate
the thighs engulfing each other
so bold the forward knee
so wanton the free-kicking foot
you could tip out of balance
with such missing solidity.
What happened was prophecy
I tipped over
out of my own masculinity
into schoolgirl crushes on other boys.
I also crossed my arms incorrectly
like shivering instead of defence
crossed myself profanely in church
and my eyes, when crossed,
frightened rather than amused.
When I crossed my delicate fingers
long and toothy and curved like crescent moons
I wished for the unimaginable.
From: Slant
The Leg Crosser
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