Hey Mona, you sure looked heavy in high def last night hanging around the Louvre. You smirked that pixelated smile, you made my eyes cry wild, staring at you through the Japanese lens of the careless Italian cameraman. Auto-focused, auto-shot, you ought to be shot and saved away for good next to the perfectly framed yet slightly off tilted snaps of Venus, Vermeer, and Veronica, his fiance and beauty beau who drove our cameraman, ol' Leonardo for love's sake to muse in the Louvre.
And here in the Louvre for love do I pine to peer to take my Mona dear using ol' Leonardo's lens. Framing the fame in an instant of time line by pixelated line before memory snaps her out out and away. Pray Mona imprint on the chip of my heart or at least until my software saves. For Mona sublime forsook my weary mind in the twinkling of Leonardo's Asian eye while he, dumpy Veronica, his future wife, and their fake Italian love block me from the real thing.
By
Emilio Ortega Aldrich
No comments:
Post a Comment