Dear Brueghel, by Steve Deutsch

Venus Frigida, by Peter Paul Rubens (Flemish), 1614.

Dear Brueghel,

Stop by at your good time
to see the piece.
I’ve named it Venus Frigida.
It turns me blue to think of her.
How we all long 
for the warmth
and sun of Italy.

Finding the wench 
took little doing.
I simply put word
out in the taverns 
and the next morning
the boulevard was packed
with women—eager to pose.
They blocked
the street so thoroughly
the provision carts 
had no passage
and our fellow Antwerpers
had, that night, no waterzooi
but cabbage heads alone
to sample with their beer.
Some old-timers 
easy with a grudge
still assault
me with rude gestures
as they pass.

I found a trick 
by which to make 
my model shiver.
I doused her with water--
two or three buckets do,
and had her repose in a sunless spot
until the goose bumps popped
and her breathing shallowed.
Her face spoke of pure despair,
as she shook from morn to eve!

But damn the imp.
The very thought 
of finding one 
gave me shivers.
Have you technique
to make them settle?
I used three infants
and shuttled them
in and out when patience,
theirs or mine, waned.
I threatened,
I cajoled,
and finally I bribed
them with the finest sweets.
I would have liked
to string one up 
to gain the interest 
of its peers.

A sculpted infant,
life like enough to paint
would be a boon to all.
Have you the skill?
I don't. 

Yours,
Rubens 

Steve Deutsch

Steve Deutsch, a semi-retired practitioner of the fluid mechanics of mechanical hearts and heart valves, lives with his wife Karen--a visual artist, in State College, PA.  Steve writes poetry, short fiction and the [email protected], which attempts satire.  His most recent publications have appeared in New Verse News, Silver Birch Press, Misfit Magazine and One-Sentence poems.