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The theme of the dinner party was La Belle Époque,
In the vintage shop, I found a dress befitting Jane Avril.
Took it home, put it on a hanger and began imagining…
The urge was great, so I slipped into it.
The lights dimmed for a moment and
I was transported to a busy bar in Paris.
Champagne flowing, cigarette smoke hanging in the air,
as a pianist accompanied the sad song the soloist sang.
Toulouse came to say “Bonne soirée, ma chérie”,
but my eye was on the young Picasso, surrounded by alluring ladies.
Hiding in the corner with Zola was Pierre Currie,
having left Marie at the laboratory with her radiation tests.
Lumiére was looking up and down my gown,
to decide on my next role in his film,
as Picasso approached and bought me a drink.
Moulin Rouge, he said, or Casino de Paris or maybe even La Tour Eiffel.
Toulouse wasn’t too happy about this, but he joined the crowd,
carrying bottles of champagne in his hands.
We rode Lumiére’s automobile to the Eiffel with Colette.
Flirting with the winsome dames, in their haute couture,
Monet, Renoir, and Cezanne followed us,
in other autos with Michelin tyres.
We danced through the night in Parc du Champ de Mars,
on top of the tower, watching Paris and then,
we stopped at Moulin Rouge, meeting,
Andre Gide, Baudelaire, Mussorgsky and Stravinsky there.
Joie de vivre, absinthe, Can-can, poetry,
music, art, and literature hand in hand,
we roamed through Montmartre, Folies Bergére,
visiting each and every drinking hole,
cabaret, burlesque show, and ended up at the Ritz.
And we danced, and we danced, and we danced,
And I danced, and I danced, and I danced,
clinging to my dress …