Westward to the pulsing mother star
Partially covered but radiating...
Caught in windows scintillating
On corporate perches
Ticks* are pinching
so beautifully reddening and waxing
Nanterre, Saint-Germain and beyond the Seine,
So striking of an impression
beyond the Parisian horizon.
Million-dollar Mitterand's arch
On the Bordeaux coast, I can grow
Or up the Loire I can buy,
With better grades next year...
two floors I climb, or thirty
But all the way up to there ?
Perhaps la President?
Make no mistake,
we are all just scrawny earthlings
Building 10s of thousands of tiles
Against hundreds of thousands of light years?
What do we learn from challenging gravity
except for how much humans are lacking?