WE NEED NOW THIS
BEAUTIFUL FRACAS
When I was a young boy back in my hideous
zoo reading my Sartre and Camus, I had it all
figured out as well as any kind can do. All those
1960 guys in the French artillery, coming back
from Algeria maimed or broken, with all their
diseased livers too, they stood around the bridges
and water of old Paris, with Les Halles still in place.
Men stood by signs that said 'Tabac' and 'Bistro'
and 'Patisserie'. All we got was John Kennedy.
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This was all a sufferance I had to grow accustomed to:
Americans knew nothing and their stomach pumps
and mental layouts has all been rearranged so as to
construct a society just this side or purely deranged.
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