Guillaume Apollinaire

Photo by DABrown __ 2004 Paris

Lundi rue Christine (Monday in the rue Christine)
by Guillaume Apollinaire (1871-1900),
translated by Donald Revell

The concierge and her mother will let everyone through
If you were a real man you’d come with me tonight
One should be enough to guard the main entrance
While the other guy goes upstairs

*

Three burners lit
The boss lady is tubercular
Afterwards we’ll play backgammon
A bandleader with a bad throat
When you come to Tunis we’ll smoke good hash

*

It practically rhymes

*

Piles of saucers of flowers a calendar
Bip bap bam
I owe 300 francs to the landlady
I’d sooner cut off my dick than pay her anything

*

I leave tonight at 8:27
Six mirrors stare at each other unblinking
I think we’re headed for trouble
Dear Sir
You are a shitface

*

The lady has a nose like a tapeworm
Louise forgot her fur
Me I’ve got no fur but I’m not cold
Consulting a timetable the Dane smokes a cigarette
A black cat crosses the brasserie

*

Those crêpes were exquisite
The water’s running
Black dress black as her fingernails
It’s completely impossible
Here mister
The malachite ring
The ground is covered in sawdust
And so it’s true
The redheaded waitress ran off with a bookseller

*

A journalist I scarcely know

*

Listen Jack what I’m going to tell you is really serious

*

Shipping corporation combine

*

He says to me sir would you like to see my etchings and pictures
And me with only the one small maid

*

After lunch at the Café Luxembourg one time
He introduces me to this really big guy
Who says to me
Listen that would be charming
In Smyrna in Naples in Tunisia
But this is Paris for chrissake where is it
The last time I was in China
It must be eight or nine years ago
Honor depends on timing
The winning hand




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Happy National Poetry Month


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My Word Learn for Today

"outre "

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/outre


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From Slate

Should We Care What Shakespeare Did In Bed?
by Ron Rosenbaum

... Partridge, a polymath independent scholar and linguist who died in 1979, proclaims in Shakespeare's Bawdy that he has discovered Shakespeare's secret sexual obsession, an act that Partridge—who is not shy about discussing the most explicit and far reaches of sexuality—says he cannot bring himself to verbalize. It's just too outré.


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And one more fun thing! Moleskines !! I just bought a mini green one (I heart my moleskines) and some one sent me this Youtube link of creativity that manifested inside a moleskine

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uy5wOfw2J1k