To hear the poet read "A Painting of Pan," click
I wasn't afraid of the painting of Pan
mounting the nymph from behind, seizing her.
I wasn't afraid of crossing the room
to study it, under the burning chandelier.
But when I saw the god's animal eyes--
glittering, heedless, intent--
and how the girl looked back at him
with a half-curious, half-panicky stare
I remembered how you looked at me
across the reeling party that night
and how, later, when I touched your arm
something flickered on your face--
open and feral, frank. A hunted look.
A kind of tenderness toward the hunter.
A perception of everything sordid
that was going to happen between us.
Look at me, I said later in bed,
and you looked up with my wet food
smeared across your parted lips
and I saw it flickering again--
that creature trapped in your eyes,
that tenderness toward the predator
I'd become, one who feeds off others,
that look of haunted recognition.
TODAY IN SLATE
More Than Scottish Pride
Scotland’s referendum isn’t about nationalism. It’s about a system that failed, and a new generation looking to take a chance on itself.
IOS 8 Comes Out Today. Do Not Put It on Your iPhone 4S.
Why Greenland’s “Dark Snow” Should Worry You
Three Talented Actresses in Three Terrible New Shows
The Human Need to Find Connections in Everything
It’s the source of creativity and delusions. It can harm us more than it helps us.
Happy Constitution Day!
Too bad it’s almost certainly unconstitutional.