I tried to stand in Conservative Jeremy’s shoes to write this poem but it was too hard to describe my own body, so I became a female artist and described CJ’s body.
What the artist habitually does with her one-night stands (listen here)
Afterwards, she draws them,pen moving over the dome of this one’s
abdomen then travelling up it,
blocking in his man-breasts,
a broad shoulder, biceps,
the angle between arm and torso wondering whether to see him again.
Now sweeps down, leaves a light trail of ink –
his back, his hip; sketches the dark mess of
hair and sac and member, reaches once more
to the big square shoulder, that thick neck,
the bulldog look of this man’s cropped head, how his fingers are small and splay a little,
her skin remembering; her hands remembering
his boneless hips. She picks out the delicate
textured points of his nipples, the ring in his ear,
his indeterminate hairline, wondering why his lips
are uncertain; why, behind his eyes, that shadow. [now published in KUNST]
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