The berghoff bar on adams
In a gallery two blocks from here Mars chastises Cupid.
It’s the kind of picture that you tell people ‘knocked you out’
And since it hangs in the heart long after your slow-stepped return
You decide to raise a glass to Bartolomeo Manfredi, painter.
Mexicans work the bar, adjusting bottles, cleaning optics, checking ice,
And the clink and clatter of this German beer hall suggests old Europe
Here at least, remains desirable. As you settle down into the evening
Your thoughts return to that blindfold, tight around Cupid’s brow.
It shows you how Mars, brash and ubiquitous, endures. A fiery thug
Who proves that pride caught out by love will always seek revenge.
You recall how the blind boy squirms. Naked and arms flailing, he knows
His body is going to sting as punishment for making connections.
For the story is Mars and Venus were at it hammer and tongs
Until, netted in flagrante delicto, our hot-headed yob stormed off.
Snorting past the jeers of Vulcan’s gang, in a ruddy musk-faced fury,
He swore a lesson in shock and awe would be dealt to that child, hog-tied.
From the west south west Great Lake Michigan will blow, 58 knots reported.
Shivers and tinsel will replace today’s heat and light, faces will harden,
And Mars will continue to rage abroad. Rome, Laredo, Lichtenstein,
You counter, shall quietly stockpile their felicity. Time to finish up.
Exiting you hear the Mexicans, tipping ice into American buckets.