Snyder, Gary: For a Far-out Friend
For a Far-out Friend (English)Because I once beat you up Drunk, stung with weeks of torment And saw you no more, And you had calm talk for me today I now suppose I was less sane than you, You hung on dago red, me hooked on books. You once ran naked toward me Knee deep in cold March surf On a tricky beach between two pounding seastacks I saw you as a Hindu Deva-girl Light legs dancing in the waves, Breasts like dream-breasts Of sea, and child, and astral Venus-spurting milk. And traded our salt lips. Visions of your body Kept me high for weeks, I even had A sort of trance for you A day in a dentist’s chair. I found you again, gone stone, In Zimmer’s book of Indian Art: Dancing in that life with Grace and love, with rings and A little golden belt, just above your naked snatch, And I thought – more grace and love In that wild Deva life where you belong, Than in this dress-and-girdle life You’ll ever give Or get.
|