June 13, 2022
Audio
eros, eros, eros
by Arthur Durkee
View full text and an alternate reading with music below.
eros, eros, eros
by Arthur Durkee
"If a separate personal Paradise exists for each of us, mine must be irreparably planted with trees of words which the wind silvers like poplars, by people who see their confiscated justice given back, and by birds that even in the midst of the truth of death insist on singing in Greek and saying eros, eros, eros.”
—Odysseas Elytis
είμαι τέλειος όπως είμαι
(eímai téleios ópos eímai)
“I am perfect as I am”
1.
East Bay San Francisco, one night a handsome man drove for sex play with me
but when he saw the ostomy bag he couldn’t follow through, and left
so followed many rejections, post-surgery, till years later I found a lover, then another
men first loved at the rasp and rising of the Hunter’s Moon (Michigan, Wisconsin)
both disabled, said the bag didn’t matter, proved it, a thousand tongues on fire
Travis, lightly furred, a young white deer, mostly blind, diabetic, showed me his scars
to heal my fear he’d reject mine, held my cock like a pump-handle, called me juicy
Enrique, sea lion-sleek, dark, passionate, bad back, depressive, less verbal
ardent between my thighs, humming, aggressive as a badger gnawing tree root boles
even in my youth,
clothes dropped wherever I could—
cicadas in wheat
naked sensual fire, skin browned in sun-scorched fields, cooled on midnight roof
one equinox post-surgery I painted black warrior marks on torso, ribs outlined
banded thighs, nipples ringed, an arrow on my penis aiming forward
self-ritual of mythic empowerment, archetypes marked on flesh
felt sexy, gentle, fierce, strong to endure the lonely years
Hunter God, keep me never tame. make me loving, wild. roughen my voice
with lust and rut. give me strength to keep the White Stags close.
2.
grieve for the body lost. once could run, could dance.
once wore emerald greaves, katana. rough beast warrior kata.
grieve youthful shirtless bicycle tours. long lake loop sprints.
once on talus trails hiked Grand Teton peaks. skinny-dipped glacial pools.
grieve body once could sweat out love all summer’s days.
afternoon of naked frolic. apartment north window light.
hallway carpet under my back. pinned down, arm and thigh.
laughter, tickle. straddle hips. insert me into you, rocking.
your fingers press erotic points on rib sides. back arches.
you dare me: send eros energy up my penis into you. shudder. tremble.
oath-king, holly-king, green man, horned one, hunter lord.
October moonrise crimson above earthbound highway. lambent, wilding.
volleys between oranges and tea, this aubade dream.
come home to arms entwined. sea-beat hearts twinned.
limbs tangled, spoken lips to breast. touch breath-clouds of sleep.
geometry of desire: symmetry, asymmetry both exquisite.
disabled body beautiful: funhouse mirror reflects, rejects
false perfection myths: nobody’s normal, no one perfect.
no one measures “standard.” all strange, made of words.
inhabited by spirits glowing. eye-shimmer tell. sexy in whatever shell.
eros, eros, eros
An alternate reading with music by Arthur Durkee
Arthur Durkee
Arthur Durkee (he/him, they/them) is a queer disabled poet, composer, printmaker, illustrator, & designer. A freelance creative, he can be found in his native habitats: recording studio, writing table, letterpress printshop, or outdoors with camera, journal, & pen. He has won awards & commissions in music composition, short story, photography, visual art, poetry, design, & sculptural multimedia installations. He never could decide what kind of art he wanted to do when he grew up, so he practices crop rotation & does them all. Selected recent work: In 2019 he composed & wrote lyrics for a three-movement choral work on the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall uprising. In 2020 & 2021, he published three increasingly erotic linocut-illustrated poetry chapbooks on the theme of the Green Man.
Image description: A mature man with mid-length white hair with reddish highlights and a white beard looks up and to his right at the sky. The sun is brilliant on the lens of his glasses, creating a horizontal streak of reflection across the image. He wears a black shirt. Behind him the deep blue desert sky is streaked with thin white clouds. He stands in front of a blooming ocotillo cactus, with thin twisted green stems winding upwards, covered in thorns, tipped at their ends with vivid red V-shaped blooms. The photo was made when living the nomad life in the desert Southwest; photo location: Joshua Tree National Park.