Sharing Canvas with the Impressionists
Brought home one of Renoir’s strumpets
rouge heavy and
teetering with each step but
when she hiked up her skirt and
began dancing about the room
I figured I may have pinched
one of Degas’.
When she pulled out a pack of crayons and
began drawing on the walls
in wild colours
I was fairly certain that
she was one of Pissarro’s but
she’d mentioned that she liked the water so
she could have been
one of Monet’s.
I had no problem getting into her
as long as I didn’t make my own
Couldn’t keep it up anyways
and by the time I woke up
she was gone.
An angry letter on my side table
marked the beginnings of expressionism.
Impressionism was dead.
that’s the impression I get.
Vallum Magazine. Montreal, PQ. Vol. 6, No. 2 (Autumn 2008). p. 65.
© Ryan Quinn Flanagan