Two Poems after Andre Kertesz, by Margo Davis

Repast 
 
after La Fourchette (The Fork) by Andre Kertesz (Hungary), 1928 (Click to view.)
 
Spotless counter, squeaky-bright   
plate. Lean silverware, poised for a serving of  
what? Imagine what you like,  
gooey chocolate cake besmearing  
white chinaware or robust meaty casserole  
whose sauce could be sopped up  
with day-old bread. The French thrive  
on that. One thing’s certain,  
the spear appears immaculate.  
This is pre-meal,  
not post-gargantuan feast.  
The utensil’s tabletop shadow suggests  
this is no fork but tong  
meant to capture the most elusive morsels.  
Tines, regulation-straight, yet their mirror image,  
wavy along the plate’s rim. Formal 
presentation as prelude to elbow workout.  
The dark space beneath the rim                       
could become a haven for  
crumbs. My pudgy unmanicured fingers  
tingle with want. Oh to reach out,  
grasp the sturdy instrument  
used Sundays only  
for duck cassoulet or beef bourguignon  
meant to soften the week’s      
vexations. This pointy instrument, immortalizing   
love of artifice, a moment extended  
in time and mind.   
   
Margo Davis

Interlude  
           
after Chairs - The Medici Fountain, by Andre Kertesz (Hungary) 1926 (Click to view.)
​
Could anyone relax in such  
stiff chairs? Bask in the view 
 
just left of frame? I would 
rotate like a sunflower.  
 
Picture-perfect, that would be one  
cliché. And, it turns out, a fact.  
 
Kertesz shared in an interview  
that he arranged the chairs to 
 
interpret his take on shadows  
and light. This idyll is staged  
 
just so, distilled to share   
so long as the photo remains.  
 
Had he redirected foot traffic  
to the Café du Dôme? Stillness  
 
suggests no one settled in or   
strolled by quietly, a form of  
 
listening, along this walkway. 
I study the photo for a sense of  
 
stasis to calm my jumping bean  
thoughts. Bass clefs deftly  
 
rise and slip through the fence  
then land just above the dark 
 
lines stenciled on the sidewalk.  
Up the path, I hear tenor clefs.  
 
Kertesz orchestrated this. Listen. 
 
Margo Davis

Poems by Margo Davis have appeared in The Ekphrastic Review, Amethyst Review, Dead Mule School of Southern Lit, Panoply, and Deep South Magazine. A three-time Pushcart nominee, Margo's chapbook Quicksilver is available at Finishing Line Press. Originally from Louisiana, Margo resides in Houston.