Abbie-Harmon-Poem1
This poem was written by Juan Luis Guzmán and was published
in Pank Magazine in October of 2013
which was labeled a Queer issue. Within this poem Guzmán puts a spin on how the
public looks at homosexual relationships and how homosexuals in general are
embraced with the world of love and lust in a differing way. The poem explains
the idea which everything he learned about being with a man came secondhand to
him by listening to the advice which his mother gave his sister. While these
words of wisdom were not meant for him, it seems as though this is the only
piece of advice he will receive from his mom on how to please a man. Not
necessarily meaning that she would tell him nothing else on the subject if he
had ask, but in the traditional Catholic-Latin culture homosexuality is frowned
upon at best. Since no background has been taught to the speaker about the
boundaries of love and lust, this piece depicts the modern day succession of
lust before love.
The first time I touch a man in lust I remember this:
pleasure isn’t something you should give away so easily.
Everything I know about loving a man comes second hand;
my mother shares with my sister in the next room, I listen.
Pleasure isn’t something you should give away so easily,
I collect wisdom like lonely strands of thread
my mother shares with my sister in the next room. I listen,
bending toward the wall to hear what she’d never say to me,
collecting wisdom like lonely strands of thread:
un amor perdido, stings like a jalapeño seed lost between teeth.
Bending toward the wall, I hear what she’d never say to me:
I’ll teach you all the ways to take his power, and if it doesn’t work,
a lost love arde como la semilla del jalapeño perdida entre dientes.
She says, start by smoothing scented oil onto skin while it is still wet,
I’ll teach you, all the ways to take his power—and if it doesn’t work?—
sometimes it’s the girl that gives it up first who gets the farthest,
she says. I start by smoothing scented oil onto skin while it is still wet.
Everything I know about loving a man comes secondhand:
sometimes it’s the boy that gives it up first who gets the farthest,
the first time I touch a man in lust I remember this.
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