Cherry Blossoms, GG Park, San Francisco, CA

What is the word I am looking for? -Oh yes.
It’s the miasma we don’t dare
Dirty Talkin’ Old Guy
charms me with his charisma
How does he do it?
Red Roses in his
Tenderloin Room
from a Dive Bar
to the curb
A legend in his own mind
He may lack my company
But that don’t keep him
…and dirty

He may be Dirty in thought
Bankrupt in ethics
and wholly unsuitable
swerve and stoop, unshaven
a bristle beard

An un-returned look
and active disregard
I may scream –
Please ignore me!
As the street fills with fog.

Overflowing with Red Roses
In actual fact, alone
Grime on the window
reveals all
And enters with a stupor
as he does

The night falls
Lime Green Neon lights
A room abloom
And bloody abandon
Really, what a schmuck!
From the gutter
to the door

Not a man for company
Nothing closes
like a door
especially noiselessly
As he enters

An alley street
in Old Commerce
with moist lips
before a cocktail
And I tell you –
Stories, and storied laughs

Emboldened and wetter
Dive In
A neon jungle
White mists of fog
A lashing tongue
Who flails me.

L’esprit d’un chat noir
A black cat walks past
for all he says
quite loudly

Straight tail, crooked lie
paws upon the concrete
long after nightfall
still San Francisco
skyline, TransAmerica
Bank of America
Sweet America!
Love me Still!
I’m a cat
Damn it!

Perfect day
Perfect night
transition perfectly
Just like a bridge to Marin
Wonderful idea, no?

Say ‘Yes’!
Don’t confuse me
with the spirit of an Old Man
locked into a transient hotel
a quiet night for quite a day
in fact

Wondering and wanderlust
I wonder still
Still happening?

A hobbled man
with dreams gone bad
and still-life portraits
of the Past
a treasure trove

Chat noir, chat noir
And Lime Green paint
I care not still.
Upon concrete
Straight gutter, straight tail
lies upon the road

Not a man for me
my master – mi hombre
Jack the Knife
no fear here
I’m a cat!

Don’t last a day here.
‘Round Midnight
Just another Jazz artist
Play that black magic!
Chat noir, chat noir

It’s a clique for sure.
Chat noir, chat noir
And still I’m here!

Silent door, then inside
my boudoir
Old Man, whose your cat?
Chat noir, chat noir

Ya gotta love your dreams!
Tea for breakfast
a bristle beard, black stubble, chin
salt-and-pepper, gray
Chat noir

In a crazy hotel
Call Me Crazy -He Calls Me
black cat on a fire escape
Dawn will come
Still as life

Tableau of TransAmerica
West of the Mississippi
due West Young Man
Rest here still.
Straight tail, straight jacket
Chat noir



Union Square SF CA Outdoor Sculpture
Union Square SF CA Outdoor Sculpture

Well now, just toss a drink
in my face and call me rude!

The problem is
you can’t un-say things.

Doué pour toutes choses – mon ami
See my cat
and like him!

Mira él!

Hey, Look at me when I’m talking to you!

Just leap into my arms
we’ll go out onto the fire

el fuego en el corazón
Dash me with water
Dashing?, hell, your gorgeous!
Blonde and dangerous.

Quel tipo, agradecimiento

None of us are friends with regret
although we are well

Chat noir, chat noir

You make me feel like a prince!

The ripple of sheets
appeared in the mirror
on the other side of the room
opposite the bed
like a White Ocean
of moiling delight
under his naked body
He saw him there
then there was the cat
a silence consumed him
his words lost, for once

Chat noir

Emboldened Red
Roses partially hid
his nudity, face forward
And Front
Ready, framed image

the day fully vanished
harsh light, no longer
lingered, descending bank of White
But a floor light, Standing by the window
with Red shade, Lamp,
Shade, and all
The room a Rose
And Neon from the window –
as one looks out
Now steady, now blinking, now ready

Front, Frank and frontal
Sky like coffee, Now as Never


Just as black, ruffled sheets
A bed can hold two, subtle, then not
after one approaches, framed, Windowsill
a sign in mid-air,
Street-side View
Reckles Red, floral Cream

The tough city’s a Dirty Place
Grime on the street
that type of thing

On soft paws, he approaches
with whiskers askew
the padding of an old carpet
provides cover

First approach the bed
then dart for a curtain-less window
A fire escape beckons

The name of a cat, Chat noir
In Black, and no. No

That one-in-a-millions
Just for two.

Chez toi, et vous.

Dirty as it Gets -by James Legare
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Dirty as it Gets -by James Legare


Amateur writer, pianist-composer, and denizen of Houston, TX. Email: -> I would be delighted to hear from you!

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