The Love Song of C. Suzanne Cooney
To Beowulf:
On Whom I Have
A Spectacular Crush

by C.S.E. Cooney

Beowulf was waiting (I will not say, "tamely")
With polite quiescence on my bookshelf
I didn't trust him
I thought him a Norse man's Hercules
Another Conan, a drunken killer

"Surely," I thought, "surely
Beowulf's been had
By everyone who would have him
My guilty interest will not add
To his glory
Besides -- I am not a man...
I won't understand him."

Too,
What have I to do with another hero?
Fair of face, rich in fame
Wrapped in olden gold
And bitter steel
Carrying a linden shield?

Beowulf, unexcited by my doubts
Invited me out swimming
Seven days at sea
We were salt-bare, joyous --
Nothing but our naked daggers
Gripped in wet fists

As in certain dreams,
I could breathe underwater
I thought this was a shark's trick
Like a merman's kiss
Before he drowns you

No, though -- Beowulf and I
With full lungs and underwater songs
Dispatched us
Some deep-sea villains
Seven, eight, nine
Down there in the brine
Before the ocean spat us out again

Had not I heard him laughing --
Chrome-throated
By moonlight
I might have thought him boastful
A braggart
Oh, but he surprised me
Not a liar, no, not at all
A prophet
A poet
Extraordinary

His hands were so hard
They broke every sword
He carried into battle
Imagine him
Trying to wield a fountain pen!
Imagine what he did to men

After he tore off Grendel's arm
I grew complacent
"Top that, you great Geat!" I yawned
Replete with his heroics
I pondered that perhaps he'd end
In pettiness, downfall by betrayal
The machinations of a friend
I waited (I will not say, "tamely")
For treachery
That never came

Grendel's Mother
However
Did.

A word on women:
Aside from a few wise queens
Denmark, in those days, had a dearth of daughters
I felt quite exposed
Standing there
Dripping Ocean and offal,
Wearing no clothes
Until I realized only Beowulf
Could see me
And he was much too busy
For side commentary

He never expected to live through the morning
That is what he meant by glory

I gave him what comfort I could
Paltry efforts: let him sleep
Through Esher's vivisection and
Consequent consumption --

"Sleep, my Beowulf, sleep
Regain your waning strength
Lo, you will need it all
For tomorrow's battle
Your epic fight
Against the water witch
Bog bitch, were-hag, marsh-wolf
Terror of the Moors
My rival -- Grendel's Mother

"Sleep, sleep, my Beowulf
For indeed, she does look hungry
And I can't really blame her for eating
That Danish man
A girl's gotta do --
After all --
Whatever she can
For attention"

Drowning for a second time
With him
I sank more than swam
Lake-deep...
Into darkness...
Into the murk of...
Prehistory

Okay, I admit it:
Watching Beowulf wrestle
That female fiend
In her sub-lacunar boudoir
Turned me on a little
More so
Than his grapplings with Grendel did
In Hrothgar's Hall

Truth is, I envied that death waltz:
His hard hands
On her awkward furs
Their passionate grip
The way they grunted
Beneath
Artifacts of giants
And a scarlet chandelier

Beowulf --
I am not fragile
It’s just -- I have few illusions
Our first kiss
Would have snapped my spine
In half
Your desire would have powdered me
Made diamonds of my bones

Beowulf --
To bed you
I'd require iron-plated thighs
A dragon's tongue, a dragon's molten sighs
To melt your skin of stone, make you realize --
By my side, on my couch --
You would never be alone
A whisper, flicker, flash of blood
Lash of tail, lick of chrome
Then, Beowulf, at last --

Then I'd call you home

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