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
No comments:
Post a Comment