Paris

The storm comes to the Hurricane Eye
Steroid clouds rush across the city,
Traffic means nothing.

The cameras are everywhere, crawling up
The hotel steps
Under and over the risers, without apology
What will they see, how could they know
Paranoid slaps unheard

The lens may capture what the eye cannot see
But we record what the heart loves and fears.

Outside, children fit in stone ears in the park
Streets crowded with tulip bulbs and poodles
The father of our country lurking
In an ancient female stone face

The view from the bottom of the pyramid
Looking up
The sky boils and train drivers scream
Oak trees float and fall
The storm comes to the Hurricane Eye
And not one tear will fall.