Poems

White Trash

More strange than a bus on the avenue
I go on foot along the pavement of Le Jeune,
idling away from all and none of that
work. I have books and a wound.

More direct than the departing metro
I snake through cars, like tuna
in deep oceans. Some
dirty man greets me. Welcome!

More squirrel than train on the platform
I board a horizontal ladder
and fall on my ass. Fuck you, train.

Romarillo rotten in a ditch,
little ant asleep in its weed,
anything will do, it’s all the same to me.

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