Bishonen-Momus

Bishonen - Momus I was born in the town of Paisley in early 1960 And placed in the care of an old eternal bachelor A strict disciplinarian, a passionate antiquarian His collection of myths and legends was spectacular As a younger man he'd been to see Japan Where a master in a white kimono taught him In a shining moment the myth of the bishonen The youthful hero doomed to fall like blossom And how could I forgive the ugly fugitive Who brought me up according to a fantasy? For when the old man stared at me He drowned in evil beauty Thinking of the early death in store for me He taught me to be good with words, he bought me ceremonial swords And in this way came grace and expertise The words were to cut down and to kill the muscle-bound The swords to fell my intellectual enemies And women should be hated but first impersonated Charm, he said, is essential to misogyny He taught me how to woo the girls in order to outdo the girls And the fun would come when I'd got them to love me And how could I resist the old misogynist Who brought me up according to a fantasy? My softness and fragility My feminine grace and delicacy Made death himself afraid for me And so in time I grew to be blond and beautiful Pale and frail, with many male admirers I was promised by my father a retainer for a partner So loyal that nothing could divide us Shocked by my suggestion that I'd rather have a woman My stepfather replied I had no choice This man would cut his entrails open protecting his bishonen He informed me in a solemn, trembling voice How could I disobey that surreptitious gay Who brought me up according to a fantasy? For when the old man stared at me He drowned in evil beauty Thinking of the early death in store for me So me and my retainer encountered many dangers On travels through the North and through the South We ripped open the bellies of many famous bullies And our reputation spread by word of mouth In the mountains of Morocco we stopped and shared a bottle With a blind old man with a bearded, bandaged face And though the sun had sunk and the man was very drunk He seemed to speak with my stepfather's voice Saying "How could you forget the aging martinet Who brought you up according to a fantasy? Your softness and fragility Your feminine grace and delicacy Will be the death of me" Surprised at 28 to find myself so late Changing from a boy into a man I'm starting to feel guilty that nobody has killed me Early as my stepfather had planned I've found myself a girl and stopped roaming the world My retainer's gone to be a mercenary Now I work in a merchant bank, I'm well-liked by the senior ranks Though behind my back the juniors call me fairy And how can I placate the ugly reprobate Who brought me up according to a fantasy? For when the old man stared at me He drowned in evil beauty Thinking of the early death in store for me I stay awake some nights when my wife turns off the lights And starts breathing regularly next to me And I think of fallen petals and bodies pierced by metal And how I'll never now fulfill my destiny Father spare my shame, let me pass my name To a boy with greater beauty and more bravery For if I have a son I'm going to raise him to die young And lay him in the grave that you prepared for me