Sunday, December 11, 2011

Gay Lolita


Toyin Ibidapo
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Gay Lolita

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The Gay Lolita
The Str8t Lolita
Mad for the Boy
Gay Cryptomnesia
Lolita Was a Boy
The Accursed Gondola
James Mason
Coincidences
The Vane Brothers
Lolitaesque
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The Gay Lolita

The sordid truth—
The ugly shocking novel
The pearl thrown to swine

The movies, the scandals—
The endless str8t lit crit
All of it Cryptoclosetry

Lolita was actually a boy—
Volodya was Humbert Humbert
Yes, and Lolita tres Sergey

The Str8t Lolita

The original Lolita—
Was an underage boy
Who bewitched Humbert

The cute nymphet son—
Of his new landlord so
Much like Dolores Haze

Sullen, violent, moody—
The boy seduces Humbert
Not the other way around

The obsessed narrator—
Homoerotically obsesses
And sulks for the boy

All males in the boy’s family—
Go insane and die shortly
After entering adolescence

Mad for the Boy

Skipping for now—
The politics of the double
Miss Rank’s astute diagnosis

Nodding to but ignoring—
The literary history of the
Evil shadow, boyish other

Letting doppelgangers—
Come and go, Miss Poe,
Miss Dostoevsky, etc

Even Miss Wilde—
With her Dorian Gray &
That awful mirror up there

Hans Christian Anderson—
Miss Guy de Maupassant
All those coy Queen Bees

How does the gay self—
Enter its own self enough
To make a proposition?

Gay Cryptomnesia

Going beyond Miss Maar—
An astute German scholar
Author of “Speak, Nabokov”

May I propose that the—
True authorial reliability lies
With switching genders

But not only that—
Throw in a little brotherly
Incest as well, my dears

Lolita not only a boy—
But this Ur-Lolita none
Other than gay Sergey

Lolita Was a Boy

There I was immoral—
Not immortal like a statue
Just ask the Attorney-General

I’d either spend Christmas—
Down in nice sunny Italy or
In gloomy dreary Old Bailey

Twenty thousand copies of me—
Waiting in the bookstores to be
Either sold or queerly pulped

“Tender Thighs” along with—
“Memoirs of a Boy of Pleasure”
My other homoerotic titles

Was I a novel of leisure—
A work of art worthy of applause
Or was I just simply pornography?

The Accursed Gondola

My first author & collaborator—
Heinz von Eschwege-Lichberg
Preceded Vladimir Nabokov

Heinz was a Berlin journalist—
Flying reporter for the Graf
Zeppelin’s transatlantic jaunts

Heinz saw New York City—
A decade before Miss Nabokov
Originally I was Juanita Dark

All the Mexican schlock—
Collected by Shelley Winters
Probably the reason why

Later I was called Delores—
And later still I finally became
The gay Lolita: Call me Armando

James Mason

A cultivated middle-age fag—
Traveling here & there rents
A room & falls for this boy

The hula hoop did him in—
Nude in the backyard gyrating
Pumping away like a sprinkler

The boy is young & naive—
But his teenage charms soon
Enslave the shameless lodger

It wasn’t just the boy’s looks—
He’d suddenly get moody and
Burst helplessly into tears

Such a tender melancholy—
Image was just as bad as young
Juliet swooning on her balcony

The sobbing boy threw his legs—
Around James Mason’s neck, that’s
How the sexual indecencies began

Coincidences

Veen remarks in Ada—
There’s no logical law that
Tells us about such matters

When does a given number—
Of coincidences cease to be
More than just accidental?

Tell me how many pubes—
Does it take before one looks
And calls a youth hairy?

Did Volodya foresee—
A black swan ugly duckling
Replacing Lolita with Tyrone?

Just as his Lolita—
Replaced the ugly duckling of
Heinz von Eschwege-Lichberg?

Man-boys and chicken—
Glut Miss Nabokov’s oeuvre
Humbert fags by the dozen

He had actually wanted—
To write about the love-life
Of a pair of Siamese twins!

The Vane Brothers

The young Vane brothers—
Were rather vain—and why
Shouldn’t they be that way?

After all, they were young—
Handsome & very wealthy
There in the old Vane Mansion

The only problem was—
Both boyz were Siamese twins
Joined forever at the hip

This didn’t stop them tho—
One was right-handed while
The other was left-handed

Making up for lost time—
With only one penis to share
Beating off all the time

Lolitaesque

Shining eyes, swinging hips—
Such fatal nymphomaniac lures
Slinky Lolita simply loved to tease

Fatal nympho chicken—
Fleeting scent of Spanish toilet
Powder wafting thru my nostrils

I hear castanets clicking—
I feel sharp high heels digging
Deep into my naked back

Armando my Armando—
Lost in a series of ambiguities
Eroticized by risqué delusions

Tactless male virgin—
Little homo hustler hussy!
Drooping harelip, bedroom eyes

Mexican schlock rules my life—
Nude in the backyard your hips
Doing the hula-hoop dance

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