Some of my favorite paintings at the Musee d'Orsay in Paris were by Toulouse Lautrec.  Though born into a wealthy family, Toulouse chose to live with members of the Paris underclass.  His usual subjects were show girls and prostitutes.  Indeed, he lived, for much of his life, in a brothel.  

Toulouse's body was misshapen and his stature was dwarfed. I suppose his physical disabilities must have given him an appreciation of and sympathy with others who were social 'misfits' and outcasts.

Many of his paintings were done on brown cardboard.

 

 

DANCING FOR TOULOUSE LAUTREC

 

She's over ripe and one hot mess

Been ridden hard and put up wet

 

Blowzy, bloated, painted face

A floozy that's seen better days

 

Breasts as soft as feather beds

Flop near as wide as her short legs

 

As in the gassy heat of lamps

She pirouettes in child like dance

 

A shy old whore, with bashful laugh

Still innocent, despite her past

 

Innocent of love's sharp thorns

Guiltless as a babe just born

 

Convent or brothel?

She had to choose one

When she was a colt of a girl so young

 

For was she not cursed with the heart of a nun

Destined to comfort the souls others shun?

 

I hesitated to publish this poem, but my husband, who is a REAL writer and whose criticism I respect, liked this one.  And so, I toss it out into the world not knowing where it will go or whom it may (or may not) please.  

 

Be well and good luck,

Martha Maria