In Paris We Highlight! - Tuesday Poem

Highlights

The saleswoman in the BHV matches powder

against my skin. It is, she assures me,

goldy. Then she frowns and rouges my cheeks

because in Paris we highlight.

Highlighted and powdered I cross the Seine

to hear american poetry

and take fashion notes.

The last is unofficial but I love

how people wear their poetry –

think, the young english girl

with long plaits chose blue leggings

to wear under her purple coat and I know

that she made the felt bee on her lapel.

You can always tell the transient

americans by their high-tech joggers.

French lipstick is why everyone air kisses and the men -

crumpled linen suits exuding poetic fatigue –

take polished steps right into heartbreak hotel.

There’s one red beret, an abundance of  pre-raph blondes

and a perky cloche. I’m confident no-one else notices

but the BHV saleswoman would be on my side:

The poetry is fine, I like the one about Che,

but look at your jacket - that asymmetrical zip!

I drag her away before her fingers walk down those teeth. 

She stops to highlight two wistful blondes.

Soon she will be declaiming poetry – yes

She climbs on to a concrete column

without a wobble of her stilettos

and declaims a simple list of colours

sending them like a magicians’ doves

into the heavy night air.

In Paris we highlight!

Catherine Bateson, June 2013

After you've stopped here for some sartorial poetry, hop across to the Tuesday Poem Blog by clicking here.   Jennifer Compton and  I must have been on some strange common wavelength when we started our respective poems - although hers took a completely different turn. Have a lyrical week!