Tag Archives: Paris

THE BOBOS OF MACRON

Posted on December 17, 2018 by

  The Bobos never man the barricades or burn the town. They’re unimpressed by crowds that weaken one’s identity. The very verb ‘to man’ offends their feminist vocabulary. What matters more, to them, is ridding us of fossil fuels, Wicked … Continue reading →

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SHAME

Posted on August 16, 2018 by

  So how would you translate “Dommage”? The town is closed, remorselessly. Only the tourists arrive. Erroneously migrating birds Landing on a mirage, They go to roost among gargoyles Because the quays refuse To open up their mouldering lids For … Continue reading →

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SOUPIR ANCIÈN

Posted on August 16, 2018 by

  Lord, preserve the hem Above the knees. Below the thighs,   Their back view allows That each such structure easily Defeats wealth, undoes   The gaze. It doesn’t take Enormous eyes, Just an upright pair   Of knees de … Continue reading →

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A Thought

Posted on December 5, 2011 by

It’s fucking hard work being a beggar in Paris: It takes more out of you than any conventional job To scratch interminably and with increasing violence At the old itch, to lie shivering in rags On the pavement for twenty-four … Continue reading →

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