An Elephant in Paris

I’ve been terribly neglectful over the past few months. Dissertation is just miserable. Apologies!
Yesterday was World Poetry Day, and I couldn’t let this pass without a post…
Here is one of my own poems, which was recently included in UWE English Society’s literary magazine, Cellar Door (you can read it here). I am the Editor, so I hope you approve! The next issue will be out in April.
I was lucky enough to have my poem illustrated by Ana Monkevic, an illustration student from Bristol, so I thought I would include my page from Cellar Door, complete with illustrations!
Let me know what you think, blog friends.


An Elephant in Paris

Pigalle, Pigalle,
Quel un quartier royal!
I went to Paris as the months darkened.
We drank coffee and walked to Montmartre
With browned skin still, from swimming
In the sea, in Nice.
We ate mussels there.

Paris bloomed with brighter fruits
In the streets of Pigalle,
A ruby theatre with a windmill astride it.
I saw one similar in Amsterdam, but I think the red
Stood for something else.

There once lived a Parisian elephant
From the world trade fair,
The Exposition Universelle
(Come and see the wonders of France and the
New world!)

An elephant in Paris, who slept under the stars
And the bars
Of La Tour Eiffel, until he was smuggled away
By the Moulin Rouge.

He sat in the garden
While men carved a hole in his belly,
And filled it with opium.
They painted gold his tusks.
Stairs rose in a tight spiral inside his leg,
And strange men with forgotten lives
And forgotten wives
Sat in his belly and stopped
And forgot.

All for a good price, of course.

Pigalle, Pigalle,
Quel un quartier royal!
Years passed,
And at last the windmill spun its last.
The elephant died
And turned to rust,
But nobody found his golden tusks.


3 thoughts on “An Elephant in Paris

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