ESCAPING THE 21st CENTURY --a nod to kateA's retrospective style

Lately I've taken to reading the newspaper  
as I lie underneath my girlfriend's skirt.  
I like her standing or assuming a yoga position.  
I feel so hidden by her plaid skirt.  
I imagine I'm in Cannes  
at a pleasantly busy sidewalk cafe.  
The circus arrives this weekend.  
It's a clear, warm, sunny day, the kind  
they made Laurel and Hardy movies in,  
a nosy breeze occasionally turning a page for me beneath the umbrella,  
a Pernod within reach,  
Picasso still alive and painting  
in a town not too far away,  
and next week Mom has her fortieth birthday  
and Dad wrote he had his best year ever financially.  
 
I pretend what I'm reading in the newspaper is not fact--  
simply a special art number looking back at  
early Surrealist horrors , macabre Futurist and Dada schools.  
 
And when I look up...  
ah, those thighs!  
I know for sure God is in Heaven  
and all is right with the world!