"Ante," by Erin Martin
Ante
by Erin Martin
To flamenco
in the town square
beside the fountains
where pennies drown
To make snow angels
during summer and pretend
we wake every day
to haloes in the grass
To stand in checkered kitchens
pouring glasses of pink
wine we drink in
wicker rocking chairs
To get persimmons
from the graveyard keeper
eat them on the city bus
stained with fruit
To grow suddenly old
in a café in Montmartre
where a woman made of oil paint
spreads her legs forever
To steal cigarettes
from a harelipped man
who fills a broken jukebox
with quarters from the bar
To dream we’re matadors
fighting in Madrid
our scarlet capes
our greenest pants
From Coconut
by Erin Martin
To flamenco
in the town square
beside the fountains
where pennies drown
To make snow angels
during summer and pretend
we wake every day
to haloes in the grass
To stand in checkered kitchens
pouring glasses of pink
wine we drink in
wicker rocking chairs
To get persimmons
from the graveyard keeper
eat them on the city bus
stained with fruit
To grow suddenly old
in a café in Montmartre
where a woman made of oil paint
spreads her legs forever
To steal cigarettes
from a harelipped man
who fills a broken jukebox
with quarters from the bar
To dream we’re matadors
fighting in Madrid
our scarlet capes
our greenest pants
From Coconut