POEM FOR CÉZANNE

The wine bottle is tilted against the sky
and the off-beat rules of Cézanne.

The impossible is capricious
and the capricious is impossible.

The single bicycle wheel turns
and the world is going Dada.

That was before beauty moved
into my house and stayed there.

The force of the sun’s rays made me blush.
The stars in the sky exchanged looks.

Was I supposed to make love with her
under a blanket of suspicion?

The birds sometimes mate with bats.
They like their dark and heavy looks.

The birds chirp like nighthawks and
the bats whistle in three-part-harmony.

It’s a respectable pursuit among the easily pleased
and the strong armed twisting life into impossible fruit.

Daring love to upset the apple cart of youth.
Bartering with truth’s ability to ripen everything.