PARIS
I’m catching up on sport in Gaie Paris
Between the metro and the Gare du Nord.
I’m catching up on sport where’er I be
Wherever I be, je recherche le sport.
I’m checking on my phone to find the news
On boxing, cycling, football and the rest,
And if you have a charger I can use
I’ll keep myself continually abreast.
I’m in the queue for the Musee D’Orsay
But keep one eye across the test’s live feed.
Between Degas and Manet and Monet
I’m checking if they picked Adil Rashid.
I’m seeing how Spurs did, in the Notre-Dame –
I’m checking up on sport wherever I am.
GLASGOW
Of course, the singer told that joke about
His brother, the guitarist, which I’d read
In NME, and yet I laughed without
reserve, as if it was its first time said.
I went there with a headache and the band
Now so reviled suspended all my pain
And worry for two hours of overmanned
Guitar rock any cool kid would disdain.
The lads of Barrowlands threw beer and worse,
they roared and swelled at every chorus line,
and we shook out our soft limbs and immersed
ourselves in that blunt tune and that flat whine.
However I confine myself to tastemaker’s disgrace,
I’ll never be ashamed of the night I loved Embrace.
No comments:
Post a Comment