Andrés Wilson |
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Andrés Wilson, also known as Amitai, is a native of New England and citizen
of the world currently residing in New York City. The son of two musicians, he was named after the famed classical guitarist,
Andrés Segovia. Andrés makes his living as a musician, writer, teacher, and translator. His poetry has appeared in Ophelia
Street, Ghoti Magazine, Danse Macabre, Poetry Magazine, and many other publications. Andrés loves all things oceanic and/or
French, espresso, Judaism, Surrealism, New England, and the guitar. www.andreswilson.com The Old Man and the Seine Tipping his fedora by the Seine, He tries to mend savoir-faire’s Eternal strut, Right-hand outstretched In scrumptious rut. To warm their slippery Rite, he might Have achieved any number of motions, Summoned with a flicker of the wrist, Or a commanding twist And turn, Like a matador. But his wave is elegant and oh so slow. It rises like the sleepy sun, Tense, writhing free from Skyline scars, Immortality, Nearly forgotten, Until seen again In the minor swirls of pizzicato. Then she awakens, Before she remembers, Waxing the wild, To glisten, Relentless, And he is erect but composed, unwavering, Dashing, more white than gray Yesterday’s lover— A ghostly chevalier Who wields woman into cylinders and pyramidal knees, butterflying legs until the motionless clutches of explosion. |
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