By Ed Crane
Klimt’s model ladies survey my décor
with superior expressions, no doubt
they disapprove of modern colour
schemes overdosed with pastel bland
in poor imitation of Bauhaus efficiency.
A generation below, Oscar leans in some
New York bar trying to look forties cool.
His name might not be Oscar, I got him
for eight notes in a second-hand shop.
Maybe he’s the lost child of the redhead.