French Eyes Poem by Pierre Rausch

He stood right beside
He didn’t' stand to

To punish the second
Row with a certain level
Especially October
And caught by what went on
Tell me what she knew
And caught by what went on
Especially October
And have a minute for yourself
Walk slowly back
The gyro that turns in
Not a second I'll know
It's feelings in the air, bad temper
Two fox cubs romped out in a box
How ell it feels, don't understand
Hope for hours
Candid pleasure yanked saccharine
Cool Champagne and monoxide
The Reds play oxford on Sunday
It's an Oxford team

French eyes, orderly French eyes
French eyes, orderly French eyes
Orderly eyes

Let us hold, don't understand
How well it feels, to understand
One wound in a crisp
The dress in gray