Pia Dent – For a brief period, in the eighties

 

Pia Dent
For a brief period, in the eighties

For a brief period, in the eighties,
I grew a penis. It was just a phase.
The most fun was swinging it at half-mast.
I would push out my hips and semi-stiff,
like a divining rod, my penis would
know more about where to go than I did.
I was glad to have it. Even after I
noticed my hairline edging back.
Or even on hotter days when it
would lie like a mirthless slug on my leg.
It came so naturally it got hard
to tell me what to do. If someone made
a suggestion my penis would peel back
its green-grape head and fuck a dude up.
Any shared trifle. A job well done or
A week’s vacation my penis would pulse :
Man up. This cat thinks he’s better than you
One morning it was slumped in the kitchen
Dimpled and gray, a day old balloon dog.
It had been in a fight and somebody
had kicked it in the nuts. When the time came,
I didn’t choose to keep it like some others.
Nor did I moon after those swaggerers
hinting how much fun it would be to borrow theirs.
Nor did I say anything later on when my brother was born.
I knew he would have enough to put up with.