John Tranter
Thanks, Joe
Thanks, Joe, I'll have a martini with a twist.
I can drink spirits, but I can't take wine.
I lost my taste for it, the first time I was kissed.
I met this woman, down from Proserpine,
she'd been out at Wagga picking boysenberries,
came up to Sydney, wanted to be
a model. She liked sherry. She had this owl,
and a ferret that bit me. Life's full of mysteries.
We drank - what a night. I woke drowsily
the next day, and looked at her naked body. My soul
shrivelled, my blood froze, I thought I'd fall
flat on my face, it was like a cloud
had hidden the sun. What she'd told me, that was
bullshit. She was a bloke! The sheet was a shroud,
the bed a grave for my self-respect. She rose,
put on some makeup, dressed and was gone with a wave
of her pretty hand. I stared at the bowl of peonies
I'd bought her - they cost a packet, and quality shows.
I couldn't remember much - she'd been on some rave
about disordering the senses, how you could fantasise
a new life for yourself. I wanted to die.
I remembered her filthy kisses, her lying lips -
she'd said she was a student, name of 'Gayleen Nye',
a virgin! And I fell for it! As for drink, three sips
and she was a slut. Barman, turn up the light,
will you? This place is like the bloody Shrine
of Remembrance. Do you know the Latin tongue?
They have a motto: 'Love's like a river - clear
one day, dirty the next.' You know, I might
have another. Damn, she was well hung.
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"Thanks, Joe" is an ode. It uses the end-words of 'Ode on Melancholy' by
John Keats. The title is an anagram of 'John Keats'.
from John Tranter
Editor, Jacket magazine: http://www.jacket.zip.com.au/
- new John Tranter homepage - poetry, reviews, articles, at:
http://www.austlit.com/johntranter/
- ancient history - the late sixties - at:
http://setis.library.usyd.edu.au/tranter/index.html
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