Blue Rondo A La Turk

 

Lichtblick - Beacon 100 x 80 cm (39 1/4 x 31 1/2'') Acryl/Oilpastel/Ink on canvas

PAGAN EPISTLE

Do you remember when our knees touched

beneath that faded sundress you always used to wear?

I think it had belonged to your mother

or possibly to an older sister who, curiously enough,

became born again, gave up pleasure, gave the dress to you.

Funny how some people court rejection while others,

namely you, reject courtship.

Okay, I’ll stop.

Anyway, there were midges, and a golden light

dripping down manicured hedges onto warm grass,

the boxwood maze with its structured pauses, sweat drying 

in the spicy breeze, a man in motley playing Shakespeare on a lute.

I woke up to the noise of a coffee bean grinder, the scent of frying bacon.

Nobody should live

merely to be overwhelmed by contingent

fluids or barbecued flesh which of course

we love to eat

or the pressure of the perfect curve

or the tanned skin

both of which we love to touch, given half a chance—

is there anything else we can do?—

ask the sun, you might have said, had you ever

   answered a question with an answer.

Okay, I’ll stop.