a merry air of despair
lingered over La Place de Broukère
the bells were tolling over and over
from St. Julien le Pauvre
from Belleville to Bastille
chimed their insistent peal
white blossoms fell on the abandoned bride
as the unoccupied future ran to hide
the groom had taken to his heels to flee
and was boarding the eight fifty-three
departing from La Gare de L’Est
en route to a rumoured snuff-lit fest