This poem is taken from PN Review 126, Volume 25 Number 4, March - April 1999.
The Truth of MasksYou will inevitably be misunderstood
Trying to seem bad, affecting a rude
Pose, while underneath it all
You're afraid. Even out partying you gull
Friends with that smooth fuck-all facade,
That vamping sneer. Tight nylon shirt and hip-
Hugging pants, a glass of cabernet held
For a toast someone else makes, the tip
Of your tongue caressing your rouged upper lip:
Each precise particular arranged
To flaunt your poise. Then, estranged
For a moment from the conversation,
Your thoughts scribble quick studies of yourself
As others might see you: coquette, fawn
Untamed by fawning admirers, guest prone
To arrive last, cock-tease, tease.
...
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