CORSICA - Gerard Bacher Poems


Poems » gerard bacher » corsica

(Before the Walk)

Curtains fluttering by an open window
The coffee is already steaming downstairs
Looking out at the mountains
Light brown yellow and high
In the early sun
It's the end of the summer
All the tourists are gone
You stir on the bed
And that annoys me
Prettier than the morning
I can't remember why I
Don't want you anymore.

(After the Walk)

Soaking in the bath
The mirror is dripping
The door  half closed
All I can see is your toe
Resting on the silver tap

Your body is sunk
I imagine
A shipwreck
In shallow (warm) waters
Arms of soft (wet) wood
Thighs to hang
Flags from
And breasts that float
Like buoys
Waiting for the tide to turn
The moon is in
A low see saw arch
Over the mountains
Spilling milk
On the slopes
Comforting a cow
With a bell around its neck

Lying on the bed
Looking at a brochure
You ask me to join you

Two alligators
The door is half open
The window is closed
I see a hair
Under your chin
Bubbles on your shoulder
You smile and that annoys me
Prettier than before
I can't remember why I
Don't want you anymore