Sails Filled With the Sighs of Dowagers
after Edmond Rostand
I saw Cyrano at the bus station
wearing shoes with heels.
He hadn’t a macaroon to his name,
and I hadn’t imagined him bald.
I wanted to approach and say
“Ah, sir, your nose is rather large.”
I wanted to address the monologue
to him, since I couldn’t find
dear Christian or Roxanne.
What would you have me do?
No thank you! No, I thank you!
And again I thank you!
I am too proud to be a parasite.
The Route 10 bus is leaving, Cyrano.
Adieu, adieu, adieu.