Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Front Bar at the Lone Star by Thom Gunn

Front Bar at the Lone Star               

Fat flesh egg
400 lbs. of him
set firmly on
the toothpick stool.
Fat, fat.
Styles change:
use a new word
and what you see is new.
Great not gross now,
chubby not fat.
Great flesh daddy,
chubby-chaser’s delight.
Contempt or pity
of twenty years
melted in admiration

Some feet distant
what slender youth!
gaze fixed on
this dream of quantity.
Encouraged, squeezes
to the adjacent stool:
just enough room
for flirting from.

The point of the heart-
shaped Raphael face
gave way to
the sporty chin
of the Gibson girl.
Styles change.
The democracy of it:
eventually everyone
can hope for a turn
at being wanted.

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