The Crimson Foulard Poem by Alexandre Nodopaka

Amongst imagined fantasist visions
I glimpsed a form reclining on a rock
surrounded by undulating wavelets.

She was wearing a crimson scarf
and I profess she was scribbling
imitations Rimbaud or Verlaine lines

No matter, the more looking I did
the more I could taste frog legs sautéed
in Champagne and the more I saw

blue and white and red in her literary
voyages the more I felt she could fool me
with such imaginatively silky thighs.

It crossed my mind to engrave her
with a pointy stylus in a woodsy block
and make of her an Utamaro geisha

and then for the sake of painting a Haiku
I'd lay her under a blossomed cherry
Mount Fuji towering above of her.