After the prostate is removed,
The male gaze, straight from the savannah,
Turns inward, toward the clinical.
The perusal of breasts is no longer
The perusal of breasts, but the aesthetics
Of proportion: how the breasts
Relate to the shoulders, the neck, the waist,
The chest—the male gaze without desire
Is curatorial at best.
After the prostate is removed,
The male gaze turns inward, toward the past.
“Ass” becomes memories of individuals,
The “legs for days” measure the dregs
Of the heart, not the organ warming up
For the show, with its cathedral tunes.
The penis still removes toxins,
But gone is the illusion of the great lover:
Those days whizzed by too fast.
After the prostate is removed,
The male gaze turns inward;
For some women that’s a win-win,
Though the new order panics the men.
The mind still “gets” the appeal,
But the body finds it harder to feel;
And no fantasy life can spin
The predicament one finds oneself in:
The male gaze confronting the real.
for D.L.
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Author: The Best American Poetry
