derek webster'ın bi şiiri.
now that lilacs are in bloom
she has a bowl of lilacs in her room"
florida. wallace stevens and pink
ice-cream. my gay friend says, girl,
have you ever screamed in anger?
well-that's not me.
i am "slender," sound as a flute:
in the crisp air of winter, wear nude
stockings and a lavender suit,
to find out who needs me.
in lightning, under sheets, i sweat
a yellow angel of regret.
behind me, grass and branches turn
green: the world is fleet.
they see themselves upside-down
in me. all men are dogs, the married
doubly so: they think another clown
floats in my mouth, and has a bone
to prove it. well, i won't get carried
off; i've never minded that,
to feel a mind work me like meal,
be written on, oh, even to feel
a sculpting pen adjust my hat:
we live for such a moment.
i've had lovers-who has not?
virgins horde their fruits. they rot.
i played gin rummy with sleeping pills,
took social visits to a psychiatrist-
was never asked to pay the bills;
he made me triste-
half-revealed, a crescent moon,
i stayed up nights, unwhole and sharp-
knowing that i move,
not that i fall.
on airplanes, highrises, trees,
a peacock of shattered glass.
i wonder, would i scream,
to see myself at last?
today i cut my leaves and stalk
a lover, lilac bowl in bloom.
my train is a promise deferred,
my french a smile and single words.
side to side we'll slowly rock.
ayrıca bir suser