The Weeping Woman
(Pablo Picasso, 1937)


Where is my charcoal box? Only a year and you’re already
useless. Limpets with lashes and that ridiculous hat. At least
Marie-Therese could pour a Pernod. Did you get me
my mail? I met Klee in Geneva. He’s dying of paint. My God,
a million marched for the rape of a marketplace. Help me
to the window. There, that girl. She still calls me
The Bull. They’re eating dogs in Santander, and my mother refuses
to leave Barcelona. Salvador encourages her, and soon
the Reds will arrive. They squabble like children and the Condor
Legion bombs Malaga. Where would my father buy bread? I have to finish
this sketch of a supplicant. The paper says Stalin is killing his generals. Did I tell you
I’ve been made curator of an empty museum? They’re eating dogs
in Santander. My friends are imbeciles and you are a cunt. I may
have chosen badly. Hand me my brushes.