CHRIS TSE
This is how it started—Three cautionary tales
you are in a photographer’s studio playing
(boy)friend and imaginary (boy)friend
here’s editorial suntan here’s the hottest looks of
the summer as determined by sponsored content
and a committee of tasteful eyes we need to move
as much of this pineapple print as we can
pineapples are in again (just one more season)
in between looks you chit-chat and inexplicably
you end up attempting to describe the shape of the sky
as if this is the sure-fire way to win him over
he listens nods politely and makes himself a cup of tea
at the catering table
a tea how many male models drink tea on shoots?
he says he’s certain you’ve met before at a house party
two real summers ago and he’s right
but he’s mistaken you for the friend you went with
the friend who dove off the roof into the pool
resulting in a trip to A&E and a very broken arm
you have seconds to counter or supplement
his version of events before an assistant interrupts
and you go back to your pretend summer in July
your fake life flashing before your eyes
*
this time you are in a sex club
filled with angry bees you are a warped
disinterested man in town on business
slowly jerking off a stranger you’ve just met
who reminds you of a fresh tar seal
when he lifts his eyes to catch yours you look away
because eye contact puts you off your A game
at least that’s what you tell yourself the truth is
you’d rather just get on with it without every moment
having to mean something you do not want
and you do not wish especially not in this dimly lit
concrete room but who are you to deny a gentleman
a generous handjob when the opportunity presents itself?
*
then love leaves you real love not fake like the movies
a development that has you living like a monster under a bed
half hungry/half afraid inside you are tide marks
keyholes and foreign currency and you
make room to start again shift only when your eyes
have something to fall upon to shock your heart into dancing
like a bolt of blue stealing away into a brighter man’s
disco anthem bloodstained teeth rinsed
summers on repeat all those times you ached
only serve to remind how you never got to kiss the boy
next door no matter how many times you
cast your rabbit’s foot into the lake
Listen to Chris Tse read This is how it started—Three cautionary tales
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chris Tse is the author of How to be Dead in a Year of Snakes, which won the 2016 Jessie Mackay Award for Best First Book of Poetry. His second book, HE’S SO MASC, will be published by Auckland University Press in early 2018.