Well, I think this is quite the oddest thing I have slashed so far, and more 
an experiment than anything else, and is quite possibly really really 
dreadful. My victim er, I mean, inspiration in this case is Anne Carson's 
Autobiography of Red, which calls itself a novel in verse and tells the tale 
of Geryon, a young boy who is also a red winged monster, who in the original 
tales was a monster slewn by Herakles as one of his labours. 

I'm going to quote a bit of it here, 'cause otherwise I don't think it'll 
make sense. This takes place as Geryon has been moved into his older 
brother's room while their grandmother convalesces with them. 

"So began Geryon's nightlife. 
Before this time Geryon had not lived nights just days and their red 
intervals. 
'What's that smell in your room? asked Geryon 
Geryon and his brother were lying in the dark in their bunk beds Geryon on 
top. 
When Geryon moved his arms or legs 
the bedsprings made an enjoyable PING SHUNK SHUNK PING enclosing him from 
below 
like a thick clean bandage. 
... 
'What smells in here is you Geryon.' 
Geryon paused. He had a respect for facts maybe this was one. Then he heard 
a different sound from below. 
SHUNK SHUNK PING PING PING PING PING PING PING PING PING PING PING PING PING 
PING PING PING PING PING PING 
His brother was pulling on his stick as he did most nights before sleep. 
'Why do you pull on your stick?' 
Geryon asked. 'None of your business let's see yours,' said his brother. 
'No' 
'Bet you don't have one' Geryon checked. 'Yes I do.' 
'You're so ugly I bet it fell off.' 
Geryon remained silent. He knew the difference between facts and brother 
hatred. 
'Show me yours and I'll give you something good,' said Geryon's brother. 
'No.' 
'Give you one of my cat's-eyes.' 
'No you won't' 
'I will.' 
'Don't believe you.' 
'Promise.' 
.... 
And so they developed an economy of sex for cat's-eyes. 
Pulling the stick makes my brother happy, thought Geryon. 'Don't tell Mom,' 
said his brother. 
Voyaging into the rotten ruby of the night became a contest of freedom and 
bad logic" 
========================== 
And here's me playing in her sandbox... 


I. Geryon's body 
============= 
At night his brother's mouth was hot and wet. 

"This is night-time," thought Geryon, "This is what people do with their 
bodies." 
But his body felt very far away. 
His brother's mouth made hot red patterns in his mind, spirals 
like the hot-plate's burning coil. 
It made things hard to think about. 

"This is what people do," thought Geryon again, before thought was lost to 
brother-touch. 
Pressed flat between bed and body, 
his small red wings twitched and twitched. 

The next day in his autobiography he drew round red smoke. 
"Write underneath it," he said to his mother. 
"Write underneath it, 'Geryon's body'". 

II. Distances 
=============== 
Geryon's brother grew large and tall. 
Geryon watched and stayed small as he could. 
He liked the distance from his head to the ground, 
All parts of him kept close within that brief red length. 

(In the bunk below, his brother's careless sprawl.) 

Each morning Geryon would stand before the mirror without his clothes. 
"That is Geryon," he thought to himself, 
closing fingers round his own thin wrist. 
When he stretched up his arms, shadows arced beneath his ribs. 

Brother-head rose and peered at him. 
"Whatcha doing, shrimp? Checking out your gorgeousity?" 

Geryon's wings shivered and folded in upon themselves. 
Geryon was beautiful. 

III. Herakles 
================= 
When Herakles came everything changed. 
Geryone looked at him and felt a round red "O" of surprise float up 
through his inside like a bubble. 
When it touched the back of his tongue he spoke. 
"Oh," he said aloud, "Hello." 

That night Herakles put Geryon's cold hands inside his shirt 
and all of Geryon's smallness was lost. 
His hidden inside growing rushed out through bones and skin and 
up he shot. 

"My goodness," laughed his mother at the bare red ankles below his cuffs, 
"You need new clothes!" 
She bought him new clothes, and new clothes, and new clothes again, 
But they couldn't keep up with his wrists and ankles. 

Geryon was dizzy with growth. He missed his smallness, and his feet, 
far away now at the ends of new long legs. 
Herakles laughed at him and ran hard fingers down his ribs. 
"I liked you small," he said, "and I like you big. Now come and show me 
*you* like *me*." 

"Who's this new kid you're spending all your time with now?" said Geryon's 
brother. 

At night Geryon tried to fold his new height into his old bed. "This is 
Geryon," he said to himself, arms wrapped tight round folded legs. "This is 
Geryon. This is my body." 

Behind him his wings flexed and spread. 

IV. Birthday 
========== 
It was Geryon's mother who gave him the camera, 
the day he turned 15. 
Geryon raised it to his face and through its small square eye 
the world leapt together with sudden significance 
each moment framed like a window. 

That morning he photographed: 

1) His mother's cigarette-smoke halo 
2) His brother's long arm reaching 
3) His own neat-clawed red feet 

Later he added Herakles' sleeping face, full of 
careless golden light. 

In his autobiography he wrote - 

Portrait: Geryon fifteen and counting 

V. Brokenheart 
=========== 
Herakles broke his heart of course. 
Sailed Geryon's body through the dark waves of the night and 
then sailed on. 
Left Geryon behind on the shores of his own red isle 
(no epic hero ever could stay put for long.) 

"Geryon you know we will always be friends," he said 
as his boat tipped over the horizon. 
Geryon raised his camera to fix him there 
but his eyes were wet and blind and all he caught was 
wind and water and a departing edge of sail. 

Geryon wrapped his wings tight round himself and breathed out 
small red cries for days. 

("Quiet up there," said his brother, "some of us are trying to sleep.") 

Geryon gathered his cries and his camera, ignored questioning 
brother-grumbles and 
stepped outside into the night. 

Outside! 

Outside there was wind and stars and the 
invisible horizon where no sails stood. 
The cold made his breath white, 
made his wings shiver out stiff behind him. 
Then the sea-wind caught them up like leaves and 
Geryon was aloft! 
camera still clutched tight in his hand. 

Below him his house was small and dark. "Geryon?" 
Rose his brother's voice thin through the night, "What are you doing? Geryon 
get down from there!" 

Geryon turned his camera from the house to the sea. 
The winds stroked his red scales. 
Up this high he could see the distant lights across the water. 

VI. The City 
=========== 
Geryon decided to visit the distant city. 

There was a certain club there Herakles had mentioned 
once or twice and 
he dressed carefully: 
the proper sneakers on his neat red feet; jeans; 
the t-shirt Herakles had given him with the red heart on its sleeve. 

"Five dollars," said the man at the door 
peering from his smoky cave. 
"You sure you're old enough for this?" 

"Yes," said Geryon, 
sure of nothing, and 
scrubbed wings stiff and shy behind him he 
entered the doorway. 

Inside eyes looked at him and 
he pretended to be brave. 
Bought a drink, gin and tonic, 
(his mother's drink but all he could think of 
staring at the bottles behind the bar) 
which grew warm in his paw as he 
perched on a high stool and watched 
men's feet go by. 

When the centaur sat down next to him 
he felt his face flare. 

"Aren't you the shy one now," said the centaur. 
"I like your t-shirt." 

Geryon nervously glanced at him, 
man-parts and horse-parts 
matter-of-factly naked both. 
He'd always wondered, 
did centaurs sleep standing up like horses or 
lying down like men? 

He risked a look round the rest of the bar. 
A drunken myrmidon in one corner, a lone Titan in leather, 
some boys on the dance-floor with grape-leaves in their hair. 
And he hadn't really expected to see Herakles but - 

The centaur's eyes were brown as his hide and 
kind enough, Geryon supposed. 

"Do you have a cigarette?" he asked. 

"Do you want to go somewhere we can talk?" replied the centaur. 
"How old are you anyway?" 

"Old enough," said Geryon, 
and swallowed the rest of his drink.