Three Moments in Paris

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Three Moments in Paris

One OвАЩClock at Night

Though you had never possessed me

I had belonged to you since the beginning of time

And sleepily I sat on your chair beside you

Leaning against your shoulder

And your careless arm across my back gesticulated

As your indisputable male voice

roared

Through my brain and my body

Arguing dynamic decomposition

Of which I was understanding nothing

Sleepily

And the only less male voice of your brother pugilist of the intellect

Boomed

as it seemed to me

so sleepy

Across an interval of a thousand miles

An interim of a thousand years

But you who make more noise than any man in the world when you clear your throat

Deafening

woke me

And I caught the thread of the argument

Immediately assuming my personal mental attitude

And ceased to be a woman

Beautiful half-hour of being a mere woman

The animal woman

Understanding nothing of man

But mastery

and the security of imparted physical heat

Indifferent to cerebral gymnastics

Or regarding them as the self-indulgent play of children

Or the thunder of alien gods

But you woke me up

Anyhow

who am I that I should criticize your theories of plastic velocity

вАЬLet us go home

she is tired

and wants to go to bed.вАЭ

Café du Néant

Little tapers lighted

leaning diagonally

Stuck in coffin tables of the Café du Néant

Leaning to the breath of baited bodies

Like young poplars fringing the Loire

Eyes that are full of love

And eyes that are full of kohl

Projecting light across the fulsome ambiente

Trailing the rest of the animal behind them

Telling of tales without words

And lies of no consequence

One way or another

The young lovers hermetically buttoned up in black

To black cravat

To the blue powder edge dusting the yellow throat

What color could have been your bodies

When last you put them away

Nostalgic youth

Holding your mistressвАЩs pricked finger

In the indifferent flame of the taper

Synthetic symbol of

life

In this factitious chamber of

death

The woman

As usual

Is smiling

as bravely

As it is given to her to be

brave

While the brandy cherries

In winking glasses

Are decomposing

Harmoniously

With the flesh of spectators

And at a given spot

There is one

Who

Having the concentric lighting focused precisely upon her

Prophetically blossoms in perfect putrefaction

Yet

there are cabs outside the door.

Magasins du Louvre

All the virgin eyes in the world are made of glass

Long lines of boxes

Of dolls

Propped against banisters

Walls and pillars

Huddled on shelves

And composite babies with arms extended

Hang from the ceiling

Beckoning

Smiling

In a profound silence

Which the shop walker left trailing behind him

When he ambled to the further end of the gallery

To annoy the shop-girl

All the virgin eyes in the world are made of glass

They alone have the effrontery to

Stare through the human soul

Seeing nothing

Between parted fringes

One cocotte wears a bowler hat and a sham camellia

And one an iridescent boa

For there are two of them

Passing

And the solicitous mouth of one is straight

The other curved to a static smile

They see the dolls

And for a moment their eyes relax

To a flicker of elements unconditionally primeval

And now averted

Seek each otherвАЩs

surreptitiously

To know if the other has seen

While mine are inextricably entangled with the pattern of the carpet

As eyes are apt to be

In their shame

Having surprised a gesture that is ultimately intimate

All the virgin eyes in the world are made of glass.