Garden Belle

by

John Presco

Come to the garden Belle

in the springtime of more

dicontent

Will we plant again

in seperated peace

Will the police be summoned

and the Mayor

troubled

Again smell the lilac

from different plots

in the besieged city.

Quasimodo

fondles his bluebelles

that make his heart sing

the droning of the bees

the blue

coming out the top

of your head

the Maid of Notre Dame

Paris is burning

with love

Come to the pasture

Belle

be the Goat Lady

make war

pitch tents

recall our Idle Hands

For time does slip away

new homeless faces

making compost

with our dead ends

The old man is gone

who fell in love

with a violent Milkmaid

doesn’t happen everyday.

And now you know

now you know

Belle in her garden

with her seeds

making

exotic cheeses

for crazy anarchists

with Molotov Cocktails