deepundergroundpoetry.com
First Visit (King's Road, Chelsea, 1965)
His posture tells you everything.
See, he’s become a Sebastian, naked and bleeding,
punctured by the darted glances shot
at him across the room. He’s convinced
that every eye can see straight through him;
He’s going to enter the Gigolo,
the club where only queer men go.
He stands there –at last he’s confessing
the self he has too often denied.
He has outwitted his fear. He paced
the street outside, shamefaced and hungry eyed,
Watching as men in couples,
In chattering knots, stepped inside.
Now he is entering the Gigolo,
the club where only gay men go.
See, he’s become a Sebastian, naked and bleeding,
punctured by the darted glances shot
at him across the room. He’s convinced
that every eye can see straight through him;
He’s going to enter the Gigolo,
the club where only queer men go.
He stands there –at last he’s confessing
the self he has too often denied.
He has outwitted his fear. He paced
the street outside, shamefaced and hungry eyed,
Watching as men in couples,
In chattering knots, stepped inside.
Now he is entering the Gigolo,
the club where only gay men go.
Published 14th Nov 2009
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