My Bohemia ~ A Fantasy

And so off I went, fists thrust in the torn pockets
Of a coat held together by no more than its name.
O Muse, how I served you beneath the blue;
And oh what dreams of dazzling love I dreamed!

My only pair of pants had a huge hole.
- Like some dreaming Tom Thumb, I sowed
Rhyme with each step. My inn was the Big Dipper.
- My stars rustled in the sky.

Roadside on warm September nights
I listened as drops of dew fell
On my forehead like fortifying wine;

And there, surrounded by streaming shadows, I rhymed
Aloud, and as if they were lyres, plucked the laces
of my wounded shoes, one foot beneath my heart.

- Arthur Rimbaud (trans. Wyatt Mason)

1958, Paris

I beat when I play
And I play when I beat
I just want to be a round
Not a square

- Par Pierrette, Liz Dougherty Pierce

~ I stumbled upon a book yesterday at my favorite store Anthropologie entitled "Bohemian Manifesto: A Field Guide to Living on the Edge". As I read excerpts from this book while in the store, I realized that I am a bohemian at heart. The above are the opening poems, most fitting and thematic of what is to come.