Lost on Bastille Day


Lost on Bastille Day

‘Let them eat heads
and suck sockets dry

before they answer “Why”‘.

 

I’ve lost my count of children

– the adults never counted –

lost to the flags of war.

 

It’s said that ten valuable ones

were crushed on Thursday night

promenading where the English played.

 

Others say Fallujah girls and boys

were incinerated over falafels

and their fathers cried for ever.

 

If there are any grandchildren awaiting birth

they’ll be primed like birds of prey

to strike without warning.

 

Will you count the loss for us?

Portrait of a noble winesmith 

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Portrait

The wine he poured from an old glass

the grape distilled at least twice

the place inherited easily

from bishops, politicians and King.

The first growth he loved

Monsieur Christian –

guardian of the blue pool

alongside mosquitos

pink roses and a caramel tree

fortified juice a white touch –

paid taxes to the elected government

sold bottles for a living

walked in shade

as water flowed up from mountains.

Proprietor with title and vocation,

a travelled homme

le rouge et le blanc.

——

Note:

Written 3 August 2012 after a visit to Chateau de Beaulon