A Tomato Juice In Paris - Poem by Bernard Henrie
On Thursday I will drink a tomato juice in Paris,
I'll hope for rain.
I want traffic lights reflected across windshields
of double parked citroens.
weather to fit my mood; the half-shut eyes
of a midnight cocktail shaker alone at the bar.
I'll visit Monoprix where you first bought
Paris was crazy for Le Hot bebop;
girls two-steped with each other in cellar clubs.
I'll try to exorcise ghosts 20-years old;
your packed bags by the door, a drained juice glass
drying in the sink; a taxi sounding its horn.
I had on white shoes, it was that long ago.
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