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Guest Poet Monique Buchberger

Remember Paris When

Remember Paris when
we walked alongg the boulevard.
It rained and we ran into the cafe
where the fat waiter with oily hair and thick moustache
brought us strong, hot espressos with lots of sugar.

We sat holding hands and watched the foreign blondes
making eye contact and smiling at the bar tender.
A pout would often get them free drinks accompanied
by furtive glances as phone numbers, written on
match boxes, were secretly exchanged

The rain stopped and we continued down the street,
looking for an empty, dark doorway to curtain
our first kiss -- our first moment of delight!

Sometimes we met at the water's edge,
under the bridge, away from spying eyes.
You said I was your conquest, teased to reality
by lips brushing my cheeks

I close my eyes....
the taste of onion soup,
the smell of strong, unfiltered Gauloise cigarettes,
the small part with the large trees and cobbled
street that let to my attic room....

I am there with you.

Like scenes from an old, forgotten film,

I hear you say again, "Je t'aime!"

September, 2001

Monique Buchberger's questions:

1. What do you think of the structure?

2. What works in terms of imagery?

3. Are there verses that need to be expanded?

4. Any suggestions on tweaking?

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