The Fanch-Interior with Women
Standing on my head
looking up at the trees
and the sparkling sky
When it’s dark I don’t see
the ship float by nor
the tsunami sea
Upside-down women
on either side
of cotton candy eventide
When the light’s bright
palms and ferns come to life
tickling my soles
and I am able
to rearrange the houseplants
with my toes
How much harder it is
to apprehend the tossed high heels
and the mute parrot
high and higher
almost in flight
but I catch them
as I carry on
with lethargic lids
that never seam
The minute I close them
my baby-faced muse
pries them open
with a seam ripper
and I flick the light back on
and then to annoy her
I hit the switch
so I can view the “Fanch”
in the Hitchcock hour
Truly, I am reclining
and in turn propelling
out of my chair
It’s been a long day
I won’t bore you with its tales
I’ll just point you to
the simple fact
that artwork looks different
hanging
upside-down
or inside-out
or Cubist
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