New Voices at LM / Poetry · 20 April 2020

Recess at Montmartre Cemetery


D O N A L D   V I N C E N T



Life bustles on the outskirts of flair tombs.
Decadent homes for the dead are heirlooms:
The school children at recess, jest, and wail
As the eighty-one-year-old groundskeeper
Steps over snails, feeding cats bread that’s stale
Searching for Degas’s resting place, the reaper’s
Success is found in the necropolis. Shales
Of roses and a ceremonious feeding of grapes
My bones thrive and jive along the trails,
The bodies of France’s most famous names,
Rustle in the winds, blowing cannabis smoke.
Death makes us feel alive, an orgasmic hoax.




J’sais pas pourquoi j’le fais mais la vie
Est trop courte pour courrir à travers la ville
Il fait froid et pluvieux
Mais c’est chef d’oeuvre de dieu
L’amour quelle etrange maladie
Au-delà du temps, fait accompli
Vous etes la raison d’etre
Le francais joues a la petanque
A la jardin du luxembourg pendant
Que nous regardons et
Nous blottissons pour rester au chaud
Les boules brillantes se
Repandent partout alentour.






I’m so broke, I can
barely pay attention.
Politicians love to
dodge questions like:

have you made your
decision? do you support
racism? or reparations
for slave descendants?
do you wage a war on
the poor? the war on
terrorism? nepotism?
neo-liberalism or
fiscal conservatism?
does activism really
cause schisms?

mute the minutia from
the media. Ignore your
televisions; propaganda
programming is always
critical of scepticism.








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