WATER POLO



In the Basilica of Chlorine, light wobbles in patches on the walls.

Whatever way your wind blows, you can’t deny
it’s the most erotic thing in the world – a Baroque depiction
of Neptune triumphant, the Tritons
playfully sporting, Michelangelesque, part dolphin,
which makes sense because dolphins are erotic – cocks with flukes.
Even the Greeks knew them to be the most oversexed of animals,
knew a dolphin would on occasion try to rape a swimmer – hence such myths
as Arion and Dionysos carried away on the broad, droplet-beaded back of a cetacean.
Some people actively encourage it. Once a colleague
whispered darkly of a rumoured website on the subject. Always the curious one.
I tracked it down. No pictures thankfully, that would have been
too much. An essay. The descriptive details
on how to seduce your dolphin were quite disturbing. Apparently
they’re not fussy and up for anything. It just goes to show
there is nothing so perverted that someone won’t
turn it into a lifestyle (with its own website). In preference I think
I will turn my thoughts back to harmless wistful Whitman daydreams
of glancing, twisting limbs

and big hands towelling dry their muscular bodies.


First published in Takahē, August 2007.

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