Selected Poems. James Tate

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      who swam in the pool beneath

      the rail he leaned on:

      she was something else indeed.

      She was the dream within

      the dream within. He shouted: hallo,

      halloo.

      He did the handkerchief dance all alone.

      O Desire! it is the beautiful dress

      for which the proper occasion

      never arises.

      O the wedding cake and the good cigar!

      O the souvenir ashtray!

Rape in the Engineering Building

      What I saw on his face scared me—ants

      on jelly; two cars ducked as he zigzagged

      past the library up to the tracks

      where the other students were just falling

      from classes. One big man yelled,

      stop him stop that man, but I thought

      it was personal and got out of their

      way. Finally the aproned man told us

      in a high stuck voice it was rape

      in the engineering building, and

      the rapist was chugging farther up

      the inclined edge of town into

      the shadowy upright garden.

      Full of thanks, we took after him.

The Blue Booby

      The blue booby lives

      on the bare rocks

      of Galápagos

      and fears nothing.

      It is a simple life:

      they live on fish,

      and there are few predators.

      Also, the males do not

      make fools of themselves

      chasing after the young

      ladies. Rather,

      they gather the blue

      objects of the world

      and construct from them

      a nest—an occasional

      Gaulois package,

      a string of beads,

      a piece of cloth from

      a sailor’s suit. This

      replaces the need for

      dazzling plumage;

      in fact, in the past

      fifty million years

      the male has grown

      considerably duller,

      nor can he sing well.

      The female, though,

      asks little of him—

      the blue satisfies her

      completely, has

      a magical effect

      on her. When she returns

      from her day of

      gossip and shopping,

      she sees he has found her

      a new shred of blue foil:

      for this she rewards him

      with her dark body,

      the stars turn slowly

      in the blue foil beside them

      like the eyes of a mild savior.

The Pet Deer

      The Indian Princess

      in her apricot tea gown

      moves through the courtyard

      teasing the pet deer

      as if it were her lover.

      The deer, so small and

      confused, slides on the marble

      as it rises on its hind legs

      towards her, slowly, and with

      a sad, new understanding.

      She does not know what

      the deer dreams or desires.

Up Here

      The motel was made for love

      as you were. I undressed you

      with grace and tenderness,

      kissing each newly bared part.

      There you lay, your small, white

      body throbbing in my hand

      like a bird. We were silent.

      The right word was not needed.

      Supple. What was I doing

      suddenly pacing around

      the bed, scratching my head,

      staring down at your gaze up

      at me? Recognition.

      I would not call you svelte.

      Your breasts were barely a hand-

      ful; I like small breasts, which fit

      a hand. Your thighs were a feast,

      though, and, walking, now and then

      I would dip down to nibble

      them. They were СКАЧАТЬ