Brunch

Brunch

She photographs Cupid as he

sits on the curb. His garments

of velvet dyed violet are sewn

with golden thread. His bow

stands as tall as her.

                                      His lone

arrow quivered, he samples

a plate of linguini and sausage.

He's marked the curb with hobo

sign for Good Meals Here: 'Ambrosia.

     Lady seems kind.' —Venus.

Yet he says his name is Rodrigo,

says he was born in Terminal

E at Logan, says he'd like dessert,

now, 'Almond liqueur stewed pears.'

[sonnet]