Pussy Sonnet

By Alice Incident.

A:
My love what the fuck is your problem?
I’ve only got two balls, I’m always
The one who lets the bee sit on him.
How can we stay together for 100 years

When you’ve already gouged the first one out
Like the eye of some dumb kid? If niceness costs
You anything at all, I foot the bill.
At 28, I’m expected to grow an inch taller.

B:
My love whevs, grow a pair & heedless we’ll
Spurt your spare behind the ball of my heel.
No one gets what you mean about the bee.
Sphere music scores our terran belly-cheer.

Another Fan

By Stéphane Mallarmé, trans. Peter Manson.

Of Mademoiselle Mallarmé

Dreamer, that I might plunge
into pure unguided delight,
learn, by a subtfle lie,
how to guard my wing in your hand.

A twilight coolness
comes your way with each beat
whose captive stroke delicately
pushes back the horizon.

Vertigo! see space
shivering like a great kiss
that, mad to have been born for no-one,
can neither break free nor calm down.

Do you feel the untamed paradise
slip like a buried laugh
from the corner of your mouth
to the base of the unanimous fold?

The sceptre of rose-coloured shores
stagnant on golden evenings, this is it,
this white closed flight you pose against
the fire of a bracelet.

Elsewhere: The Poems in Verse (2012), Peter Manson’s translation of the Poésies of Stéphane Mallarmé.
Still farther: Lady Windermere’s Fan, ed. N. Scargill (Pride Press, 2012)