the other day I was walking by the river Seine
passing fading signs for this passing lost signs for that
not reading the morning newspaper over coffee
or tea for the morning newspaper is dead and gone
Seine water undulated like tar under the bridge
my soul was transported from one side to the other
my worn face looked back at me on the lone metro seat
reading for a last time thumbed pages of love and lies
I stand at the zinc of a forgotten bar and drink
flies hover by the pearly taps the first time in years
I look for the news that someone else is perusing
men with yellow moustaches fix me and reminisce
a girl not yet old walks by in a skirt and long socks
her innocent leather bag swinging from side to side
our eyes chance to meet a second and she seems to smile
before the traffic lights change and road life floods my sight
the train jolts out its regular rhythm which measures
my thoughts was the girl beautiful today or just tired
the smiling advert looks down at me and confirms the
negative I meet my friends in the same rooted spot
in the room we stay where we are and inside listen
the green stars only see us when we come out to smoke
it could have been me reading out those lines
it should have been you calling out those lies
with words spent the motley crew leaves and moves down the hill
seeking the watering hole and somewhere colder to sit
like dustballs feet barely visible a sea of heads
the night sky looks down at our secret divagations
I sleep with your absence your flesh shape on my mattress
Death’s cousin will show me my day in poetic shorts
will I ever mark the Seine as I saw it today
in truth you had never looked so hard so sad so real
