Maurice Ronet

In Marseilles there is a little flamenco joint
where Maurice would bring his monkey to drink

Guitar is like an old bell
on a summer day

no program can live in its fur
Maurice drinks only a small brandy
and squeezes lemon
on the olives

an old woman kisses his cheek
he calls her El Pulpo

he thinks he hears a man say 'cornodo'
as he finishes his brandy
sucking the pit of an olive
and the seed of a lemon

a binary star
'dementicata' he mouths
to El Pulpo
her eyes cut to the bottom
of his glass

He dreams of a poem
about King Midas
and the democracy
of tawny frogs

goes out
to buy stamps
in suede
shoes

It's 1978.