It looks like the zombie apocalypse is doing very well here,
thank you Madame l’Ambassadeur.
Or that suddenly civilization turned around and says
thanks that was great but let’s just be friends, okay?
This is where men die every day for lack of poetry, while we –
staunch remains of confetti d’empire – just lose it.
Yet mother cat reminds of the endless love – metal structure,
Only men have guns here. The women? Well, they know of
the secret crossroads.
I know I’m white. Just let me breathe it. All this confusion.
this joyful mess. Basically Invictus.
Felix Maple is a professional geographer living in Paris, France. He was a volunteer paramedic for a while. He is British but has been living in France most of his life, which is confusing to him. He teaches geography at the University of Paris 8 (Vincennes – Saint-Denis) and writes poetry whenever he can. His work has been published in Brevity Poetry Review, Emerge Literary Journal, Eunoia Review, Red River Review, Rose Red Review, Napalm And Novocain and Visceral Uterus. His blog is at http://felix-maple.blogspot.fr.