Shahm Zay Lee Zay

A Pantoum

If you think that pushing through a crowd

On Paris streets

Is a marvelous way to get around,

Remember the ones not so discreet.

 

On Paris streets:

“Sortez de mon chemin, Américaine.” Spit.

Oh, remember the ones not so discreet...

Shuffle along, my dear, and pretend you know it.

 

“Sortez de mon chemin, Américaine.” Snort. Spit.

I’m spat in a clump onto the Tube. Again.

I just shuffle along as if I know it.

Everyone is here : The strangers, the men.

 

Here I clump on the damp, cold Tube. Again.

Maybe I’ll get off on Champs-Élysées,

But everyone is there: Strangers and men.

I’d rather walk above, if I may.

 

I escape on Champs- Élysées.

At least now I’m surrounded by me.

I’m walking above and away.

So the stereotype conducts: to sightsee. 

 

Here I am. There you are. I’m surrounded by me.

We’re a pit of fat, boiled frogs they can meet.  

A stereotype conducts: The French’s sights to see.

We eat to excrete then retreat. How sweet.

 

They are a plate of frog legs (no meat),

Slipping and sliding around.

They don’t eat, excrete, nor retreat. How sweet.

If only we knew how to live through the crowd.

Reviews

[waif]

'I'm surrounded by me' - I love this line, but the entire poem is seeping careful thought and that is the best kind of poetry, I think. Wonderful example of a form I've never attempted because of the expected difficulty, but you make it look like cake. Really good stuff.

[Kelley Quinn]

Thank you! I worked for awhile on this one so I appreciate you thinking it looks easy-it means I've accomplished something!