The ending spoils all the debauched fun
that has come before; for Alfred
de Musset's Gamiani ou Deux nuits d'excès
ends in death, just like homosexual desire
later had to end in death or disappointment -
look at James Baldwin's Giovanni's Room -
not fulfillment in sex or love or both, which
made E. M. Forster hide his Maurice
and put away his pen. And de Musset
leaves me in a sour mood, stained
with the ending. Lust must be punished,
virtue must have its day, and I end
up thinking how in Tomasi's Il gattopardo,
after twenty-six years of marriage
to a woman still hysterically in love
with him, seven children sired,
Fabrizio still has never seen
his wife's navel.
26.06.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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