DONATELLO’S VERSION
1
is unexpected:
the boy David
shamelessly naked,
one adorable leg
cocked at the knee
nonchalant
vulnerable
soft-bodied
a true killer
he wears his helmet
like a bonnet,
its pointy peak
garlanded with laurel leaves
2
the kid’s a winner
little penis
big sword
standing astride
the craggy winged
head of the giant, Goliath
3
Goliath’s head is peaceful,
his death like any death
is restful, untroubled
by desire or regret
4
David’s skin glistens, obscurely
under a patina of melancholy
what’s wrong with him
he should be dancing up and down
with joy
5
poor David
the good guy
victory is the worst thing
that could befall him
6
in the glass of his great victory,
through the loathsome mist
of world weariness
he sees himself
becoming King David
7
sees strings of victory
twining into distance
with strings of defeat
how he will conquer
and flee
how puff himself up
to hide
how he will dance around the sociopathic Saul
how marry, sire, beget
betrayals, adulteries,
murders, torture
prisoners raked
through the brick kiln
a weakness for poetry
will have him writing psalms
again and again
for all he has won
by this great victory
is his own disaster:
his family, his kingdom, his people
tearing apart and apart
8
he will go through life
eating flesh by the fistful
choking on shadows
9
in the improbable blood
of his great victory
he sees all this
and is famished
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