Poetry: April 25, 2003

You will always leave a bad taste in a man's mouth 
if you are calling yourself his liberator 
while cleaning out his refrigerator
and blowing up his stuff.


Were Minerva in her morning shroud 
Not coiled beneath its light
Frenchmen would not be Parisians 
They could only be Paris-ites


COPYRIGHT SANANDA MAITREYA, 25TH APRIL 2003, MILANO - ITALY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
(AND STRICTLY ENFORCED)