Dessert

Nothing but joy and physical sensations

To discipline the will on a desk pad

Here’s the embrocation stiff as a poppet.

Mark me if it concerns an assassination

Principally in the military sphere

There’s nothing left for me to say

Head in my hands I take the resolution

With the help of a puzzler let fall from the lips

To kiss an American on an ocean liner

A few mouthfuls of tea put on some pajamas

The English light in my memory

It’s an upper-case envelope

Let one get the smell of it the trick’s played

On the surface with practical means automobiles

It’s a problem and good exercise

All those clichés there of most charming people

With their unwillful brains

Always look like a well-dressed game.

For I’ve learned as well the names of heroes

As of fine photographic turns

With the content of French windows.

Francis Picabia