Fast and Easy Summer by June Labyzon
I sit
in this basement gift shop.
triologized and clichéd.
Broken heart,
shaken mother,
shattered finances.
I attempt to arrange them using
a different puzzle format.
The mix is reluctant.
I fancy
cleaving with you
in Paris cafes.
Hemmingway's words ghost us into retreat,
butterfly oysters in pearl cocoons.
Between bites of bread
and inhaled sips of fruity red wine,
we devour heated crusty
fragrant conversations,
brilliant yet senseless.
On a bed of golden polenta
swathered in a creamy roasted garlic sauce,
we tame the peek-a-boo game.
I pop
under the harmony, walking
on the warm Paris boulevards
licking cones dolloped with caviar.
You buy me lemonade paintings
to hang in my basement gift shop.
I stop to arrange the flowers in
a vendor's cart, silently pacifying
your design of beauty.
Circulating these sensations, I am
propelled from a ceramic journey
to the savory edge of
cavernous space.
A shift of balance quietly takes place;
a new trilogy replaces the old.
I sit
in the surreal funhouse
sucking on the silky brown seeds
of tasteful evolution,
fire,
sweetness,
and bittersweet buttercups.
12/03/2014 Posted on 12/03/2014 Copyright © 2024 June Labyzon
|