City street, fine brasserie, slip inside,
find a seat. Shake piled snow
off cuckold. Sip Pernod,
study the menu, name its font.
Not Arial, Gil Sans. Feast on lamb,
frog legs, Foie gras, Pastis gascon.
Top it off — coffee, St. Rémy,
Crème brûlée. Close your eyes
dream a new lover arrives.
You move to Provence, become
a chef. Tweet recipes. In bed.
In French. The Mistral blows sheets
of phyllo dough down the street.
Your sex life goes viral in Norway.
Timothy Pilgrim is a Pacific Northwest poet with acceptances from journals like Seattle Review, San Pedro River Review, Third Wednesday, Cirque, Clover, A Literary Rag and Toasted Cheese. He is author of Mapping Water (Flying Trout Press, 2016) and co-author of Bellingham Poems (Flying Trout Press). His work can be found at timothypilgrim.org. He has an M.A. in English from the University of Montana and a PhD from the University of Washington.