I like Rimbaud a lot. I've got his At the Green Inn memorized. I'm not sure why I like it so much actually.
For a week I've flayed my boots
On the stony roads. I swing into Cherleroi.
-The Green Inn. I ask for buttered bread
And a plate of half-cold ham.
I feel superb - legs at full stretch under the green
Table. I study the wallpaper; check the repeat.
Bright eyes and an enormous cleavage
Earns the barmaid ten out of ten -
Definitely not a shrinking violet. Service
With a smile: in comes my warmish ham
On a Garish plate, and yes, the buttered bread.
The ham's pink and white, frisked with a garlic clove;
She pours me out a massive mug of beer.
A ray of Indian summer gilds the head.
For a week I've flayed my boots
On the stony roads. I swing into Cherleroi.
-The Green Inn. I ask for buttered bread
And a plate of half-cold ham.
I feel superb - legs at full stretch under the green
Table. I study the wallpaper; check the repeat.
Bright eyes and an enormous cleavage
Earns the barmaid ten out of ten -
Definitely not a shrinking violet. Service
With a smile: in comes my warmish ham
On a Garish plate, and yes, the buttered bread.
The ham's pink and white, frisked with a garlic clove;
She pours me out a massive mug of beer.
A ray of Indian summer gilds the head.