Les Bonnes Femmes (Chabrol, 1960)

Les Bonnes Femmes (Chabrol, 1960)

Jacqueline loves me, my
motorcycle, my moustache, my
mystery.  She’s excited by the danger
of my gaze.  I’ve seen it
in hers.  I’m sure
you have too.

The way she fingers her
long, slender neck and smiles
when she sees me.  She taunts
the roaring tiger in its cage, knowing
I’m watching, uncaged and laughing.

Of course she rejected
that hairless boy, my dull,
tedious doppelganger
pedaling that pathetic
tricycle-- He was
so straightforward.
Nothing could be less
exciting.  Women crave romance,
adventure, thrills!

But now that I’ve approached
her (I had to rescue her
from those humdrum idiots)
and she knows me
as André, how can I keep
the suspense alive?  What do you expect
me to do?  Surely you
can see she’s taunting me
again, smiling at me
with doe’s eyes so
familiarly, inviting kisses.

Okay.  I’ll play
her game.  Lead her
into the thickets.  She
falters.  Coyness--
She knows what I’m after.
I’ll give her one
last chance:
“If I read you right,
you needn’t worry.”