A Gay Fifty-Seven
Yes, there is pain. There is loss and so many disappointments. And there is decay: the body breaking down a little more each day, your strength failing, your youth ghosting the bathroom mirror. But there was a time when beautiful men set down their beers and parted their lips when you came into the bar straight from landscaping all day long: your brown thighs strong, your calves muscular above your leather work boots, your smile easy, your minutes long and your moments languid in the smoke and darkness, your heartbeat still audible above the thrumming drum machines, still heard by those boys who wouldn’t give you a second glance these days. But listen to me, old man, you were beautiful to all of them once, and that is something that still belongs to you. You are fading now, gaining the painful gift of invisibility, and it will be what you choose to make of it from here on out. But you should know by now that Time doesn’t hate you. Time just covets you like they did. Time just loves you to death.
Audio: Daniel Nathan Terry reads “A Gay Fifty-Seven”
Daniel Nathan Terry is the author of three books of poetry: Capturing the Dead, Waxwings, and City of Starlings. His poems have appeared in numerous journals, including Cimarron Review, The Greensboro Review, and Chiron Review. A former landscaper and horticulturist, he teaches poetry at Cameron Art Museum and lives in Wilmington, North Carolina with his husband, printmaker and curator, Benjamin Billingsley. Follow the hyperlink to order his most recent book, City of Starlings.
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Beautiful. Every word