DINNER AT THE HOTEL DE LA TIGRESSE VERTE
by: Donald Evans (1884-1921)
 S they sat
sipping their glasses in the courtyard
- Of the Hotel de la Tigresse Verte,
- With their silk-swathed ankles softly kissing,
- They were certain that they had forever,
- Imprisoned fickleness in the vodka--
- They knew they had found the ultimate pulse of love.
- Story upon story, the dark windows whispered down
- To them from above, and over the roof's edge
- Danced a grey moon.
- The woman pressed her chicken-skin fan against her breast
- And through her ran trepidant mutinies of desire
- With treacheries of emotion. Her voice vapored:
- "In which room shall it be tonight, darling?"
- His eyes swept the broad façade, the windows,
- Tier upon tier, and his lips were regnant:
- "In every room, my beloved!"
|
"Dinner at the Hotel de la
Tigresse Verte" is reprinted from Poetica Erotica.
Ed. T.R. Smith. New York: Crown Publishers, 1921. |
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POEMS BY DONALD EVANS |
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