GREGORY SCOFIELD

the dancer (club mix)

see him he is

un touchable, unreadable,

more lovely than smooth gravity

glistening

down the length of his body

his small hips, his tight

perfect ass swinging

up to the platform, all motion

swivelling on his golden ball-bearings.

see him moving

on rhythmic cue, he

is beautiful, so unreadable

the curve of his spine

is the jigsaw puzzle

we want to put together,

the damp lush scene he is

getting paid

to unlock his vaulted package,

the overflowing box

of our stone-dragging youth.

but we are falling

at his feet, longing

to take each biblical toe

into our mouths, praying

to be his stigmata, oh

his incubus-tongued angel,

love eye-d, all sugar-eyed

like the e-queens bopping high,

messed on their own love trip tripping

though we’re all chasing

locks, zippers,

the elastic band

holding his jockstrap together.

but he is

getting paid a doctor’s wage

to be that fat man’s murderer,

the old troll’s executioner, a killer

made more lovely

stroking the blade of his

oh so deadly nipples.

and beneath the red light

he will be the boy in school

who beat the shit out of us

for looking: he will be

our velvet fuck, our burly-man prince,

our mint-

flavoured lamb, our saviour … but see

he is grazing down his belly,

all ten fingers

an arsenal to keep us smouldering.

we can smell

the gunpowder between his legs

and we want to pop, pop

pop

because he is getting paid

to fuck our minds, getting paid

to make us forget our mirrors,

the crystal-dropping twinks

floating to the dance floor,

bouncing like muppets.

because he is

getting paid

to make the drag queens feel

like real women, getting paid

to be their spank-spank boy,

the roughneck quarterback

running them past the goal line

of snickering small towns,

fathers who just wouldn’t understand,

but see he is

all muscle, his perfect ass swinging.

he is our golden trumpet,

our rainbow flat anthem:

Everybody wants to be somebody

Everybody wants to be somebody

Everybody wants to be somebody

Everybody wants to be somebody

and he is getting paid

by the man upstairs who

discovered his ass,

knew it

would be a money-maker, a ching-

ching factory of coke-den lies,

a bar tab of heart

heart

heartbreak – but see he is

un touchable, unreadable,

more lovely than smooth gravity

glistening, sliding

down the length of his

  bones.

but he is getting paid

at the end of the night and

these are some of the bones

he takes home; his

mother’s narrow foot

dancing away from him, his

grandmother’s hairpins

falling into a drawer

deep in his memory, the blood

bursting inside his aunty’s head

while she was sleeping,

drunk … and his own

aching bones,

half-breed and kicking.

yet later, swallowed by

the empty mouths of our beds,

we will think of him.

we will make him pay.

he will be our second-hand doll

and we will use him

for free, as if

he meant nothing