I’ve written devotional poems for several deities now, but writing one for Antinous proved surprisingly hard. I think, however, that this poem definitely belongs at the head of this blog.
Antinous for Everybody
I am grateful to have you in my life,
Bithynian Boy: So grateful that I find
I don’t want to keep you to myself.
I want to share you with everyone
around me, anyone who might be
as hungry and thirsty as I was.
I want to be your Ganymede
and hand you round like the Holy Grail,
so that everyone who tastes you
can drink of their desire.
Antinous for everybody!
Drink of the boy turned god,
the one who comes
and meets us more
than halfway, the new interpreter
of gods to mortals and likewise
mortals to gods.
Drink of his eyes that
look deeply into yours
when you look at him;
drink of his listening
expression, his soft and
silent mouth. Taste his abundant
curls, his broad sturdy
shoulders, his perfect buttocks.
Antinous for everyone!
Drink deeply, friends, for I
am drunk with love and want
you to be as drunk as I am.
I want to give you away to old ladies
who have no one to listen
to them and no one to carry
their groceries to the kitchen.
I want to share you with
the misfit teenagers
who think no one else
has ever felt as they do,
who call themselves
bi or pan or ace,
boi or gurl or queer.
I want to take you out
for drinks and show you off
to all my fag-hag friends,
dressed in low-rise jeans
and boots and a henley
stretched across the muscles
of your chest. Take, eat,
enjoy the Beautiful God,
lovable and lovely, amiable
but fierce, both benevolent and just.
I want to take you to all the churches
that punish people in Jesus’ name
so you can tell them Jesus loves them
no matter who they fuck.
Then when I’ve introduced you
to all the people who need you,
all the people I think would love you,
take my hand and walk me home,
and with your smile, Antinous,
remind me that nothing shared
is anything lost, and that your love
stays with me though I give it away.