the French lesson




so how is 
Paris? the


French lessons 
must be serving 
you well - or 


serving you. 


and the 
Frenchmen? I 
doubt you have 
to close your eyes
grit your teeth
and try to 
get through it 


as you once 
described the 
thought of me 
desiring 
you - oh


the romance
and art,
bistros,
cafes - the 
boulangerie francaise - 


you must be 
beside yourself 
as you always 
are no matter 
who you're 
beside - pity


it's winter 
and frigid;
Eiffel Tower 
steel must stick 
to your tongue 
(rivets of 
frozen language 
in your heart) 


I hear 
they have 
cobblestone streets
or brick - careful 


not 
to stumble: 


stone isn't 
as forgiving 
as I - not 


as hard as 
I wish to 
be.  


Poem ©2011 by R. Burnett Baker 
Early 20th century oil painting of Paris street scene by Jean Remy, personal collection of R. Baker.