Après La Révolution
After the revolution we
became the aristos.
I fell in love with a
prince of the butterscotch castle
but I could never get past
the guillotine in his head, the wolf
hissing in his flock of noise,
the glitter-ship in his bottle
waiting each day to sail him away.
All the devils of summer
came to our parties, flashing
their ruby eyes in the dark, stealing
my stockings, hiding the postman,
eating the silverware. I made a centerpiece
from applecores, black horns and tail-spikes
and called it art diabolique.
When the winter night
finally flapped its starstained carpet
over the horizon, its patterns worn
and indistinct as we were, all
the stardust beaten out of us, I knew
we wouldn't make it to the end,
or even to France.
La révolution est morte.
Vive la révolution.
March 2022
posted for
Shay's Word List #17
Images: Study for the Spanish Dance, 1879, © John Singer Sargent Fair Use
Charlotte Corday, 1860, ©Paul-Jacques-Aimé Baudry Fair Use
"I made a centerpiece
ReplyDeletefrom applecores, black horns and tail-spikes
and called it art diabolique." !!!!!!!!!!!!! God I love that!
Well well. I love everything about this, from the title to the Frenchy feel of it, to the dissipation of the narrator & friends. I also love the tags. I have sat here for several ticking minutes and have finally decided that i can't quote anything else or i would just be c/p ing your entire poem. C'est formidable, Madame!
Merci beaucoup, dear Shay. So glad you enjoyed it.
DeleteThis is like a sheet of old wallpaper (tapestry)? lifted from its proper housing and taken for a ride on the wolf wind. Or is it the other way around? A fanciful and diabolical hippy backslide into wherever Free Men in Paris fade to. Deelightful.
ReplyDeleteLove the Free Man In Paris reference, Brendan.
DeleteThanks, B. Looking back on those days seems fanciful, but in many ways, they are the realest place I go. Appreciate your insights, as always.
Delete"... its patterns worn
ReplyDeleteand indistinct as we were, all
the stardust beaten out of us..."
I really love these lines in particular, Joy! So visceral, that beating!
-David [ben Alexander]
http://skepticskaddish.com/
Life's little rug-beater is always going. Thanks, David.
DeleteI especially love the centrepiece. This is an amazing read. Amazing images and a wild ride of imagination.i love it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sherry.
DeleteAn invite to the party ... even though I would not make it to the end ... 'twas worth meeting the devils of summer!!! Great poetry, Joy.
ReplyDeletewhy do I think that centerpiece is less fancy, than actual memory (or a reasonable facsimile)?
ReplyDelete"the wolf hissing in his flock of noise, / the glitter-ship in his bottle / waiting each day to sail him away." Awesome. I'm with Shay on the art diabolique too!
ReplyDeleteI love the centerpiece and the European feel this has! Too many wonderful lines to quote. This does give the experience of visiting memory hotel and a party like Hotel California! Love this Joy!
ReplyDeleteTotally agree, Carrie. I got those vibes too :-)
DeleteI LOVE THIS. The gothic visuals, everything. I want to see this scene in the film that it deserves to be part of. I want to see the postman gagged somewhere and sworn to secrecy with his life, I want to see the horny demon sniffing your stockings cause he's a pervert, I want to see the centrepiece you created that you call art diabolique. Love your talent <3
ReplyDelete