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Le Poeme

A Poor Aesthete in Paris: A Tale of Modern Woe

I strolled up the Rue Saint Honore,

browsed through Colette,

then lied down by the Seine

and wept.

This entry was posted on November 16, 2011 at 5:49 pm and is filed under Not a Poet. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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