Friday, January 20, 2006

Two poems by Maître

We drove through the night
Full of speed and full of spite
We came to a crossing
But we didn't know
Whether to go straight forward
Or left or right
I can't remember
Which way we took
But I know it was September
And all the love I had to give
Was lost


Minute Maid
When I get paid
Sandwich in a bag
For my friend the fag
Bowl of fruit
Champagne in a flute

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