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At Lewis Carroll's Last Photograph Of Xie Kitchin
[after Lewis Carroll's poem, Jabberwocky]
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the peat,
As Xie stepped out from the grove's
shade, to the grass, on stockinged feet.
Beware the favored model, son---
watch what you say, for she might hear.
Something you do not mean might stun
her smile into a nasty sneer.
So take in hand, to photograph
her beauty, in the time you can.
Beware, my son, her mocking laugh---
the way it will cut down a man.
In tangled thought, he paused and stood
as Xie's gaze turned to a stare.
He knew exactly what he should
ask, but he knew he could not dare.
The shutter---opened wide, then closed---
captured the beauty she presented
as she controlled the way she posed
(though, in his mind, a bit resented).
Beware the model's wrath, my son,
or else your joy will be diminished.
As she declared the session done,
she picked her shoes up, as he finished.
She told him, "Not again; no such,
"luck if you think to ask my mother."
What model means to him as much?
In all of England was no other.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble, I repeat,
as Xie stomped off, out of the grove's
edge on offended, stockinged feet.
Starward
[jlc]
