GIGI KNOWS.

A French girl poses for a photo knowing ger parennts would not approve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gigi knows her parents
Would not approve of this
This kind of photography.

 

She can imagine her father’s
Dark eyes sticking out like
Organ stops, his peasant hand

 

Swooping down to whack her
Soft behind. She stares at the
Photographer; he’s disappeared

 

Beneath the black cloth like
Some mole underground, a
Hand rises up as if to give

 

Command. Steady, he says,
The voice muffled, keep that
Position. Her arms ache poised

 

Above her head, the veil is
Pinched by fingers and held
In place, veiling the features

 

Of her face, yet still revealing,
Eyes, lips, breasts and naked
Flesh. She wonders what the

 

Man thinks beneath the cloth,
What thoughts enter his mind,
What wishes swirl around like

 

Stirred stew. Hold it, he says,
Nearly there, I’m nearly there.
Marcel said such as that the

 

Night before, she remembers,
Watching the photographer’s
Hairy hand move around the

 

Air, Marcel’s words echoing
About the chilling studio and
Hauntingly lingering there.