Van Gogh in Paris, by Bob Bradshaw

Self Portrait With Grey Felt Hat, by Vincent Van Gogh (Netherlands). 1887.

Van Gogh in Paris

I hung paintings--
red gladioli, coppery fritillaries,
the buttery yellows of daffodils--

from floor to ceiling
in the Cafe du Tambourin
as if it was the Salon.

I was intoxicated:
new styles of art were like hats
in a millinery shop,
everywhere.  

I tried them all on:
Monet's, Seurat's,  Gauguin's... 
the hats fitting easily 

on a dandy’s red head. 

But I was drinking
day and night, 
my health failing,
as was Theo’s.  

I had to leave Paris, 
where I had arrived
“like a gust of music
through an open window,”

as Theo joked.  Now my leaving
surprised him.     
“Why give up friends
for the south?”  

He shook his head,
worried, knowing loneliness
was more poisonous
than absinthe. ​

Bob Bradshaw

Bob Bradshaw is recently retired, and living in California.  He is a big fan of the Rolling Stones.  Mick may not be gathering moss, but Bob is.  Bob's work can be found in many publications on the net, including Apple Valley Review, Eclectica, Loch Raven Review, Peacock Journal and Pedestal Magazine, among others.