Sunflowers with Ham

All morning

from each corner of the city

people in cafés

begin to mumble

of van Gogh

and his platters of omelets

It’s natural everyone stares

at the dish set before him

one sunflower

quietly awaiting

rotation

if only in a photocopier

(as seen on TV)

The question is

how to steal a true copy

then hang it back up

If only a pair of

wildly fantasized hands

could reach right into the image

(as in classical drama)

The problem is

how to snatch it

blocking the bids

of the bidders

their footfalls

chasing down the screen

Today the whole city’s breakfast’s

sunflower with ham

But how to choose

between the dish

and the art

How to lock its color, its flavor,

its fragrance, into the frame

to carry home

No surprise how we finally

deliver the ham

to our mouths

as always

bite after bite

then shut away

the sunflower blooming

its three hundred million

like the ecstasy of one genius

dismayed to meet

another