t h i b a u l t    r a o u l t



It's easy to forget your father
Once ate five thousand falafel

In a field near Lyon because
It never happened   his whole world

To thank for this musical body
Of yours & yours alone


When others use the phrase herbes de provence
They may as well be referring to bad snow

I know because I was detained
By Pleasure in a sugar snap pea field

Let us rewind   my middle name
Is Roaring Twenties   but I can be Bruce to you


These days I'm calculated like the Danube
One part constable   three parts hide

By thirty-five I'll be a lateral poet with fifteen hogs
& access to running [grunt]

That came out perpendicular for what
Itís worth my quiver didn't catch any of that



THIBAULT RAOULT is an assistant editor at The Georgia Review and author of Disposable Epics (Caketrain). He lives in Athens, Georgia, where he also edits RealPoetik and performs as Historic Sunsets.

in issue fifteen

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