Swan Lake Variations

1
Turns out there are twelve
alternative endings.
No one will leave Swan Lake
alone in its sound-world,
its gloom trajectory.

The cast: Prince Siegfried:
you know the type.
Irresolute, with the kind
of mother known all too well.
"Just pick one. Any one.
I'll have you married, young man."
Odette, who was once a woman,
now doomed to swanhood
in a white tutu.
Rothbart the sorcerer,
in dusty owl-gear, his gig
to turn women to waterfowl.
His daughter, Odille,
black swan seducer.

How many endings
with climactic storm,
forest confusion,
deaths and drownings?

The Prince beats Rothbart
and tears a wing off,
stealing his swan-girl away.
She'll be a human bride
by the time they get to Mother.

Or, the Prince shoots Rothbart
with his magic crossbow.
Odette forgives him
for cheating with Odille
just hours before.
It's a comedy of manners.

Or, sometimes Odette does drown
(hard work for a water-bird),
and Siegfried joins her.
Each clambers up in turn
to precipice and leaps.

Or, Soviets wanted a happy ending,
and got one, a fairy tale
to undo the melancholy
of too-long winters.
Bozhe moi, let him have the girl.

Or, Nureyev chose the death-leap.
Rothbart and the swan-bride
soar heavenward, the gay prince
relieved to be spared the horror
of a tutu wedding night.

And, in New York, two suicides
break Rothbart's spell.
The lovers ascend
in Wagner apotheosis.

Or, Odette is condemned
to be just a swan,
a haggard water-fowl.
The disillusioned prince
stands there and sulks.
Maybe they'd roast her
for the wedding feast.

Or The Prince and Rothbart wrestle.
In their exhausting struggles,
both drown. Odette remains,
the nineteenth swan, odd-out
in every choreography.

Or The eighteen swans
peck Rothbart to death.
Owl-feathers and bones
sink to the lake's bottom.
Odette and Siegfried
take bows and marry.

Or, a promise being a promise,
Siegfried marries Odile,
the bad swan, becomes
the sorcerer's son-in-law.
Odette droops wings,
Swan Cinderella.

2
Swan Lake in Pittsburgh

Disheartened by happy ending
tacked on to Tchaikovsky's
gloom-ridden ballet —
the drowned white swan Odette,
the drowned Prince Siegfried
seen floating past, as good as new
on Lohengrin's swan-raft —

Really? Amid lamenting coda,
piled high with tragedy,
this Disney charade
so that little girls in tutus
sitting in the balcony
don't go home crying?

Odette's body, swollen,
entangled in algae,
washed up on shore
three days ago.

As for the Prince,
he was found, a "floater"
beneath the Sixth Street Bridge.
Eels came from his mouth
when they hooked
the bloated corpse.
The grieving Queen
is inconsolable.

Rothbart, that bloated owl,
swan-pimp,
still lords it
with the eighteen virgins
he lured away to suicide
(three rivers here, and lots
of unhappy girls!).
Each night they rise
and dance their cygnette
sarabande, with a harp,
a violin and a cello.
Other young men
they will lure to drowning.
That filthy owl,
man-hating sorcerer,
knows only this game
and never loses.