Wednesday, December 05, 2007

dxcvii

He has excited the pigeons
past the Bourst and past Le Depot.

The green men sneak out onto the street
early of a morning. They

cleanse the soul of le cité.
I’m drinking water

without twirling plates (avec gaz).
Heart still flutters

and wants to Alp in a Swiss chalet
and boink like minks.

Oh goodness, modernity!