Painting by Pierre Bonnard
AL FRESCO CAFÉ POEM #225:
RENATA’S POEM: THE BIRTH OF THE AUTHOR #62
We left out from our amorous tète-à-tète
All verbs and all nouns. We did the same
With the ten commandments. We communicated
By truncated syntax. Our kaffee klasch
Became a fête champêtre, al fresco
With drop ins, who rubbed elbows. It
Was chatty, cozy--all metaphorical.
We in our costumes were alone at a bal masqué.
We had with truncated syntax found
A new intensity. We were orphaned,
Heard Orpheus. As only the defeated
Can truly and fully experience
The joys of victory. We were turning
A glowing silver as in a Bonnard painting.
Duane Locke
Posted over on The Argotist Online
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