So, there's still couples fighting here;
sheltering under Deco extensions -
Futurist excursions in signgage -
slipping down the pitfall maps of the RER,
some sweet hunk, a boy-poet in the
Bacon-style, knocks me up
(This isn't the Ramblas)
and we're up for 45 on the Sacre Cour,
the sweet ball-play of beggars, with
trick Benetton rainbow tie-ons -
that's the view, out our out
with a sparkling model-thin whip
at the last run through customs,
a ludite-hill airport and the train,
that's French for a day, Paris for a time,
and you not forgotten
.
