Pas de Deux for Silhouette and Swan

By | 1 May 2020

after Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake

‘Tchaikovsky’s his vice’ — Roland Barthes.

If you’re still looking, after they’ve called last drinks
and the boy has emptied the ashtrays and collected the glasses,
you can see the silhouettes of infamous men
slip down side streets, dodge streetlights
along footpaths and then disappear somewhere
into the shadows of the public park.

There, between the trees that surround the lake,
neither close nor far apart,
they shift on their feet like horses
waiting flank by flank behind starting gates
until the men arrive, dressed as swans, and begin their dance
during which nobody fucks and nobody drowns.

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