Julia Origo poetry: Bad girl

 

Bad girl

 

Pity those poor Italian men,

out of reach,

(oh, celibacy in despair!)

but they never look sorry

(why?)

I was invisible to the man on the street

I told him that I was really excited

(born one second after midnight

on New Year’s Day)

a self-absorbed, thumb-sucking bad girl,

beware your wildest dreams…

 

Rain fell like nails upon us,

I seduce his father who flirts with his seatmate

on a long plane flight.

I had always wanted a real man

(always the same face)

as I knew better than to offer him to pay

for he can watch his family from

beyond the grave

(sad news of the death, oh yes,

the theft of childhood and

the dangers to the young, oh yes)

 

delve deeper into Celebrating Possibility

and an engaging sense

of

pale

naked

PAIN.

 

It made no difference.

 

Julia Origo

Verona 1965 – London 2005

(From: Bad girl, 1985)

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