Streets of Monmarte By Alex Hand

                                                                  Streets of Monmarte

Cracks in the plasterwork crawl
across the street facing wall  
where the colour of the façade 
fades with nonchalant disregard.

Solid buildings three foot thick
of granite rock and heavy brick,
with identical deep doorways
whether private homes or cafés.

Thresholds onto narrow streets 
where life is religiously discrete,
lanes wide enough for a Fiat 500
or crones trudging homeward.

A portière for each linteled entry
muffling the smells of black coffee
keeping wine-laden voices inside
where familial mundane life resides.

Vespas slip through tumbly lanes,
exhaust dying in the afternoon rain.
A scrawny cat skulks in a doorway
eyeing the fading of an ordinary day

Alex Hand is a Brisbane-based poet, essayist, short story writer and editor. Alex Hand’s poetry is that of a modern romantic, his work tends towards the satirical but has an equally observant eye for the quirks of life. He has been published in Australia, the UK and the USA.

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