Rolled like a liquorice wheel

are the arrondissements,

like a round dance

a fairground carrousel,

a cable reel,

one eight seven

two six three

four five eight,

twenty in number,

and a biotope each,

a quarter or ghetto.

Venerable, grey facades,

decayed, fleeting,

weathered, weather-beaten.

The metro stations as a bracket.

The lines that seem

to hold everything together.

Published on April 18th, 2023