Eleanor: Spring Morning, by Peter Erdmann

With unfettered access to the chic from Mombasa to Palm Beach

And all nonsequiturs in between

Every image full of concubine, courtesans, eunuchs, and Turks

Naked and bold, brawling colors mixed with afternoon cocktails

As you know, the Turks are dedicated 

Policing every entry, meticulous about proper identification.

Pools of the rich, fêted, unwashed, languishing

In a search for posterity.

Forever posed, caught in a complicity of image.

Today.  Now.  No matter our state of undress.