-Brigitte Bardot in Fall River-

when Brigitte Bardot told me: “get rid of those

magazines under the bed!” I told her: “okay, okay!

Christ! Gimme a freakin' break"!

––but I was busy that afternoon and besides, Brigitte Bardot

had a photoshoot scheduled in Paris with Picasso.

––It took a few hours for the Express Bus from Paris

to arrive at the terminal in Fall River and I knew I was in-for-it

when she returned.

––when she did, Brigitte Bardot began spinning beneath

the soft, acquiescent material of her dress,

the same dress she had worn in the morning to see Pablo,

unfurling it like an umbrella opening to a growing threat.

––“so,... how was Paris?” I asked tentatively 

in an effort to divert her attention from her early ferocity 

in ordering the removal of the collection of magazines
stashed under the bed.

––but Brigitte Bardot just kept spinning like a pulsar,

faster and faster and soon, like the tigers of “Little Black Sambo”

(although without a hint of vanity) — Brigitte Bardot began to melt

beneath her own heat, fast becoming a puddle in sweet, salted butter

upon the hardwood floor and this is the way of my dreams, sometimes.