La Grande Jatte Imitation

Jeannette Beebout
WR 241/ Biespiel
April 29, 2013
“La Grande Jatte” Painting Poem

“Chaps, place your bets!” Only well-behaved kids
were allowed to partake in this grossly
hot day’s events. Those men on the outskirts
pondering, no, planning, how they can get
in skirts. They puff on long, mischievous
looking sticks, the smell illuminating
only over the few around them. Me.
I could smell the roadkilled animal, but
there were no roads? Only the La Grande Jatte
which carried for miles. All of the faceless
creatures around me gazed forward, eyes locked
on the sails and amateur sea men
competing on the water. Except mum
and me.  We couldn’t stay. She said,
“be graceful Susan and you can have extra
wafers back at the flat.” All these men were
strangers to me. Except one. Uncle Tim.
Though mummy is wed and daddy’s back home,
we spent a lot of time with Uncle Tim.
Although the sun pierced my pale flesh, I
was honored mum brought me here cause I was good.
How come I have to be extra good today?
And why is Uncle Timmy with that gal?
Mum’s not as excited to be at the races
and that made me angry. “Hello Tim! Hey!”
Water welled in my eyes from the lack of
response. No acknowledgement from Tim
so I broke the rules, and I’ll get no wafers.
“You’re not nice Tim, I’ll tell my pop on you!”
Tim crouched, and studied deeply into my blue
welled-up eyes. He said, ever-so-gently,
“Susan, I am your daddy,” and my heart sunk.