
You’re not anywhere near
where you’d promised
you’d be,
Señor Moon . . .
Mister Moon.
And my sweetheart
is flat, she’s downright
disappointed.
So I think that you owe me
something – no Señor Moon?
Mister Moon . . .?
You’re waning, I’m waxing,
we’re slightly out of step.
Or perhaps, as you say,
she simply finds me too . . .
clean-shaven?
Oye baby!
Signorina,
that’s a
che
bella
luna.
Extraordinarily che,
opulently bella,
laughingly che bella
luna.
© Chagall, 2013
