Ok, he said let’s up the odds, and set down every silver edged card
His harp just sat around playing Memphis Blues all by itself
Fruit came in borne by the handservants; red, pink and chartreuse
A woman was unconscious on a table surrounded by cherry cream
Her feminism was to dream in black and white, things reverse
Repeat and disassemble; the Mirrorman is Don Juan by night.
If the Mirrorman mirrored me, then I would declare full house
And make him turn himself into silver stars and broken things
Like Braqueian birds and Picasso’s guitars
I’d bring him nuts and nectar, Anaïs Nin would sing
Deconstructing volumes and rending silk.
Watercolour, Japanese ink and stitch colour with hand dyed silk-Veronica Aldous
Ⓒ Veronica Aldous Poem and artwork. All rights reserved 2015