Sex Without Love
How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
Gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth, whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.
Commentary
A poem that is not easily forgettable? I think Olds tries to answer a question that we have all asked at some point or the other in some form or the other. One of the nice things about the poem is that there is this nice balance between the view on the one hand that making love is the wonderful, sharing/caring type thing it is:
... How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? ...
On the other hand, there is this superb analogy with long distance running. And as a wannabe long distance runner and admirer of long distance running (in a vaguely “Chariots of Fire”-y sense!), that is a particularly powerful image, of the marathoner-hedonist. In the end though, there doesn’t seem to be an answer the “coming to the still waters” bit is as weighty as the long distance runner bit. More questions!
Links
There is a page on the poet at http://www.albany.edu/writers-inst/olds.html Googling will lead you to several other links.
— Ravi
Thomas adds
See also the third of Peter Porter’s “Japanese Jokes”:
Love without sex is
still the most efficient form
of hell known to man.
(The remaining ten haiku in this sequence can be read at poem #198)