the Mona Lisa postcard

there’s so little space on a postcard to say
Paris is amazing, there are
maps & taxied streets
suitcases & tunnels of bones, the
skulls & femurs & cervical vertebrae of
past Catholics & secret heretics
waiting on Rapture in dark spidery spaces

but the postcard arrives
on a monsoon Friday
Elinor’s cursive writing, the
words baguette & UNESCO &
on the other side the
calm face of La Joconde of
whom I have nothing to say, she’s
just not my type though I
might agree to carry her organic groceries
I sense she was a simple girl


5 thoughts on “the Mona Lisa postcard

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