—after Bonnard’s Nude in Bathtub, oil on canvas, c. 1940-1946
I remember its milky curvy bulk
perched on dainty claw feet
watery blue bathroom tiles
the rush and crash
of water from the taps I remember
the long brown whip of him
Roger stretched across the green
and yellow rug the damp air
steamed-up mirror she looked
over her white shoulder she
looked again I remember her
pruney fingertips tapping the tooth-
colored tub the chipped
and yellowing tub the squeal
of the old metal taps I don’t
remember how we got there only
how slowly Rosie finger-combed
the dark hair behind my ears.
The Bath
Matthew Thorburn’s latest book is The Grace of Distance, a finalist for the Paterson Poetry Prize. His book Dear Almost won the Lascaux Prize. He has new poems in Copper Nickel, The Southern Review and The Best American Poetry 2020. He lives in New Jersey.