Foxy Hustler

“the young fellow

coming towards me”

—Ted Hughes, “Epiphany,”

Birthday Letters

__________________

Crossing Chalk Farm Bridge—

On my way to the subway station

I glance at him & couldn’t—

Help but stop and stare

He was a foxy chicken hustler—

His pinched, urchin expression

I caught his eye—

His wild confused stare

“Like have you got $100?—

I’m cheap enough, dude”

Somebody would buy him—

What would I do with him?

All that mannerless energy—

Growing up bored with himself

Powerful, slinky young fox—

Long mouthed, shifty, moody

A young hunger for everything—

Full of cocky male derangement

The foxy kid peered at me—

Some good luck is all he needed

Already past the chicken stage—

Round, orphan-looking eyes

I take him back to Devon—

Circling and sniffing him in bed

He wants to get back to London—

So I have to hurry doing him

I pay him and drive him back—

I’d wanted to test my widowhood

Can an older divorced woman—

Still find an armful of love?

My marriage to Ted dead—

A young fox now & then maybe

Snarke