The Player, Nice
Standing on rue Bavastro I spy
a perfect carving of a sea bird
poised on the roof of a car
as if a giant hood ornament
has climbed up to get a better view.
He's so still one can enjoy the curved
yellow beak with it's bright red dot,
the carapace of cool grey plumes
all the colors bright and fine
the whites pristine "Javel" whites,
not a working class bird
not bones and flesh.
I pause, not wanting to miss the moment.
A couple is watching him too, Americans...
dialogue drifts from over the street.
They are standing quite near
but the bird never stirsl
"He's quite beautiful" she declares.
"How do you know its a he?"
"Well, he's cool, debonair...he's Cary Grant".
"Ho, really? Just watch, he'll snatch a fish
off the ice there before you can say
Archie Leach".
He chortles at his own cleverness.
"He's not bothered, so confident," she says.
"Oh yes, City gulls are all about confidence.
They'll grab a fish off your plate AND your fries.
I've seen it at CoCo Beach, thieves
the lot of 'em.
"Reminds me of this guy Tully back home.
He'll come over, start talking and
when your back's turned,
he'll palm a jacket or a tool.
Last time we were missing a nozzle,
don't know how he did it, the fucker."
"Well then, Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief",
she parries.
I silently approve her defense
of this striking, industrious gull,
certainly nothing like Tully,
the "kepto" back home.
Why is it, I ask myself, that females
are suckers for handsome rogues,
hustlers, chancers, pre-possessing knaves?
But beauty isn't the point here.
Yes, he's young, he's beautiful
but it's the ambition, the daring.
Who wouldn't cut a few corners
to feed a hungry brood...and the wife,
he loves the wife too,
of course he does.
Who wouldn't chance it for the chicks
and his female?
The Player would...
and I'd say
that's the kind of gull we have here.
