If Poem by John Rolland


If wishes were horses, then beggars might ride
But not only, we would also put Bordeaux
In a bottle of dark green color,
We would put Brest in a coffeepot of sailor
And Marseille in a pencil case
Ready to tell stories of the old harbor,
We would put Reims in a paper hen
And Limoges in a china cup,
If wishes were horses, others wishes would populate
France and pride of the chateaux of the Pear,
We would put the Liberty in a poem of Eluard
And the supporters from Lens in a ball of football,
All the feelings would be held by the hand
And my neighbor would have bosoms as eraser,
We would put Strasbourg on one bateau-mouche
And all the wars in a picture of Picasso,
Guernica where tints are animals
Even the Trojan War would have lasted two days
And we would begin books with kisses,
With wishes, if if we would bottle Paris
But not only, we would repaint the Sistine Chapel
With feathers of pink or blue flamingos,
We would put mustaches to the Mona Lisa
And the surrealists would sleep in camembert cheeses,
Fortunately my mother did not marry Appolinaire,
With wishes I would have ended in calligram
At the edge of a river at the edge of a drama
Having never included that in the life
The love never builds itself with if,
Oh no, not ever, the love never likes ifs.

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