Wednesday, 14 July 2010

Dinner Time

Here the lapin jumps over
Pots of boiling vegetables

Bites a vein on a chef's arm
And darts through the service door

He pisses on a waiter's shoe
And passes sous la table
Where the president enjoys tête de veau

This skinned rabbit
Looks up the first lady's skirt
While nibbling at crumbs

Some customers who've finished their coffee
And paid l'addition
Get up from their seats

And the man who trades as a lawyer
But paints his dead daughters portrait
Each week
Holds the door
For those he's just lunched with

The cold rabbit surges out the door
Onto Rue de Beaujolais and joins

A dozen snails, half a cow's head
And several frogs on their way
To a safe haven

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