Memoirs of a Baby Voluptuary:
Derrière et Devant
He crawled to the first step
Of that seemingly endless
Curved up and out of sight,
To chase the colored light
Filtered through the windows,
Breathless in wonder,
In his old days
The joy of it.
That first taste of ‘real food’
Blew the baby mind,
Still soft, mind you,
A delicious culinary mood
His busy spoon
As he later thought
3/4 of a century later:
A warm spring breeze
Had held him
Crawling away from its embrace
He felt the cool green
Brush his face
The heavens opened up!
His baby body thrilled.
The grass was ALIVE !
In the dying days
He considered all the ways
That it might have been….
A touch of God
Just as easily
Let it go.
His father held his boy hand
Standing in the lobby of the Pierre Hotel
Waiting for his mother to descend
Like Violet Venerable
Suddenly Last Summer
In her gilded cage of an elevator.
At the twilight peak of cocktail hour
A band was playing C’est Magnifque.
When the doors slide open
A beautiful woman stepped forward.
Tilted her head just so,
Her long gloves
Adjusting a black net veil,
Pulled close her silver fox wrap
A lingering scent of Joy,
Same as his mother’s enveloped him,
But it wasn’t she.
He noticed her black and white oxford heels
Softly gliding over the thick carpet
That elegant black stripe of her silk hose down the back of her calf.
His mother was late.
An anodyne devant could lay before him
In latter times,
Gracing with that bundle of baby years
Choices, struggles and tears to fore
Did not diminish the sensate thrills
That still brought chills down his spine
Ever as wonderful as chocolate pudding
Streams of rainbows from the Chartres interiors
Of his mind.
He found in the shadows of ecstasy,
The shame of bourgeois fantasy
In the pure delights of a demimonde world
The hard play of men
Walking from the meatpacking district of NYC
To the Village at Waverly and Gay
Given a native’s tour view
Brilliantly colored trompe-l’oiel
Graffiti fantasies on grimy back alley walls
On the way home before dawn
The delight of a leather jacket clad arm around him
As they stumbled home
For an early morning of love.
oh, the images! the sensations of touch spanning a lifetime. a window into a life. beautiful, and thank you.