The Name

Decorumby Stephen Dunn

She wrote, “They were making love up against a gymnasium wall,” and another young woman in class, serious enough to smile, said

“No, that’s fucking, they must
have been fucking,” to which many
agreed, pleased to have the proper fit
of word with act.

But an older woman, a wife, a mother,
famous in class for confusing grace
with decorum and carriage,
said the F-word would distract

the reader, sensationalize the poem.
“Why can’t what they were doing
just as easily be called making love?”
It was an intelligent complaint,

and the class proceeded to debate
what’s fucking, what’s making love,
and the importance of the context, tact,
the bon mot. I leaned toward those

who favored fucking; they were funnier
and seemed to have more experience
with the happy varieties of their subject.
But then a young man said, now believing

he had permission, “What’s the difference,
you fuck ‘em and you call it making love;
you tell ‘em what they want to hear.”
The class jeered, and another man said

“You’re the kind of guy who gives fucking
a bad name,” and I remembered how fuck
gets dirty as it moves reptilian
out of certain minds, certain mouths.

The young woman whose poem it was,
small-boned and small-voiced,
said she had no objection to fucking,
but these people were making love,

it was her poem and she herself up against
that gymnasium wall, and it felt like love,
and the hell with all of us.
There was silence. The class turned

to me, their teacher, who they hoped
could clarify, perhaps ease things.
I told them I disliked the word fucking
in a poem, but that fucking

might be right in this instance, yet
I was unsure now, I couldn’t decide.
A tear formed and moved down
the poet’s cheek. I said I was sure

only of “gymnasium,” sure it was
the wrong choice, making the act seem
too public, more vulgar than she wished.
How about “boat house?” I asked.

Sex.  It is not only one of the most primal human desires, but it is also a necessity to the survival of the human race. Without sex there would be not babies and without babies there would be no humans.  Over time, sex and the way it is perceived in society has changed.  Centuries ago sex had one purpose: procreation.  Soon after, sex was for the pleasure of men, women just has to suck it up until it was over and she was rewarded with the miracle of pregnancy. Eventually, the concept that a woman had sexual desires that did not involve procreation became less taboo.  In his poem, Decorum, Stephen Dunn provides a snapshot of the nature of sex and its place in humanity.  Dunn places himself in the context of a conversation about the place for and difference between fucking and making love.

In many of his poems, Dunn is an active participant in the plot.  Decorum is one of these poems where Dunn is a teacher in a classroom full of presumably college aged men and women.  The poem starts with "She wrote 'They were making love up against the gymnasium wall'" (1-2).  From there, a conversation about the difference between fucking and making love ensues where various people weigh in on which is appropriate to characterize this occasion.

The poem's structure is constructed so that it flows like a conversation.  This is common of Dunn's poems.  It is a snapshot of one of life's little moments of which Dunn was a part.  Those who were on the making love side made comments such as "the F-word would distract the reader, sensationalize the poem" (12-13).  The author of the poem itself said "she had no objection to fucking, but these people were making love" (35-36).  These two commentators were women.  A man introduces a new perspective.

Just when it looks like this poem may introduce a reasonable conversation about sex and its role, a man inserts his entitled opinion.  This certain man thinks "'What's the difference, you fuck 'em and you call it making love; you tell 'em what they want to hear""(25-28).  Dunn's introduction of this perspective brings a shock of reality.  Along with "'the kind of guy who gives fucking a bad name'" (29-30) is another group "who favored fucking; they were funnier and seemed to have more experience with the happy varieties of their subject"(21-24).  Dunn identifies with this group.

Dunn's seemingly relaxed and simplistic tone and structure is challenged in the final stanza.  Dunn writes "I said I was sure only of 'gymnasium,' sure it was the wrong choice, making the act seem too public, more vulgar than she wished.  How about "boat house?" I asked"(48-52).  Boat house.  These two words insert a new level to the poem. Dunn is inadvertently commenting on rape culture and the different circumstances of sex.

In his simple and relaxed poem, Dunn not only provides a snapshot of the questions many have about the nature of sex, but also his own opinion.  Fucking or making love.  Dunn has his own opinions and they seep through his poem, but the further purpose is to bring of the question of sex and the way it has evolved in society.