Gery Pieret

in a small room

in the basement of The Louvre

near a sleepy guard

i took possession of a 

small stone head

which was chiseled

white and brown

without apparent prejudice

in a tribal way far less modern

but no less real

than a working windmill

near the Bateau Lavoir

and it must have been

close to 1907 at all events

and i was hungry and inspired

and put the statue under my arm

arranged my heavy coat

raised my collar

walked out silently

and that is how i remember it

before i sailed for California

and became a cowboy

riding on an Apollinaire saddle

into the surreal sunset of a western sky.