Saturday, January 14, 2012
Monkey Nipples and Angels
painting by fernando botero
monkey nipples & angels
What beauty is this, the body?
A temple, ransacked by rabid weasels.
She cups a breast, fingering an ochre nipple
with a chipped half painted nail,
asking herself silent
What was it they said in Virginia Woolf?
made them giggle in English class, but now
gnarled, gummed by hungry mouths, uneven
& lower, thighs once, spider vein
cracked canvases hips that cradled children,
the chalice, now hollow.
Newton's law has spoiled the apple sauce
Eye to eye, she looks for any glimpse
of the girl that turned heads and more,
is this the volume Botero sought,
as he painted,
tangible in every way?
no. No. NO. NO.
I think he saw her, even in ways she was unwilling,
beyond the fortune teller fool's gold found
in the lies of the mirror, sold silicone illusions
or brays of ignorant jackasses
upon leaving the bathroom
she will cook breakfast,
pack lunches, tote kids off to school,
kiss her spouse on the cheek, fold clothes,
wash dishes until fingers wrinkle,
go to work, then come home to cook & clean
but when exhaustion sets in
and her eyelids no longer refrain,
she dreams lacquered wood floors,
room upon room,
and a bench where she sits
looks up and sees this painting,
really sees this painting
for the first time.
Posted over on his site Way Station One