Postcards for Kenward

I’ve tattooed Maria on the forearms of your photographs.

Today at the flea market an instinct to surprise you.


Antique foreign postcards.  A find

among the shoeboxes, 1907 Lesbian Romance!


Dramas!  Bold damas declare their intentions

to our Lady of Pagola.  103 years ago she lived


on the same street as our rental!  Imagine

young Carmen calligraphying Señorita Catalán



on the bare skin of the refined elite, re-inking

the hand-painted postales.  I translate her Spanish


on the back of the decorated damsel, the one

with maroon roses and blue pastel.  “The girlfriends



who want you cannot forget you, and to prove

my affection I dedicate to you this postcard.”


Kenward, I dedicate to you all I’ve found today

at the fería in 2010 Montevideo, from Avenida Pagola,


where jealous Clara Carrera sent Maria the child

holding her china doll.  Rouged cheeks and lips


and Easter Sunday dress.  “They can tell

you that they love you,” she warns our heroine.  “An instant



can return itself to the sea.  But to love you

like I love you… Lies.  That can never be.”


I almost wrote on the two blank-backed

cards from the 1930s, but choose to let you


add your own amusing captions to their kitschy drag,

black-browed foreheads white and wide as blank canvas.


All is sunny in Uruguay.  Wish you were here.”  And it is.

And we do.  “Much love to the cats. We’ll see you in June.”

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