jenni and i carried a miniture armoire
to the top floor of a brick house
on the corner of two famous boulevards
at le chez de madame tata
conspicuously named "la chateau de crackle"
unsuspectingly petite on the inside
despite the grandiose fixtures
rattled by the high pitched voices of garcons
imprisoned post trou de loup
we watched our step up the central staircase
to the tip top of la chateau
where we stumbled upon madame tata
affublee un bonnet and apron
over a gown, victorian vogue
shouting around the sound of past servants
directing the armoire placement
and correcting our pronunciation
of simple french phrases
as she cleaned paint brushes
and detailed the careful steps needed
to crackle a mirror frame
or the heart of a healthy man
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