Poetry

Watching 
"The Seagull"
with my friends
up in the balcony
with a confessional
love poem 
slowly emerging
in my smiling
imagination,
there is no language
that could sabotage
or upstage
the Beat in me
with my sax of a soul 
out here
in the provinces
of France 
anyway 
it is starting to rain
off the islands
and my girl friend
suddenly asks me 
for tickets
to see Adele
wondering if our life
merely repeats
the family dialogue
from any generation
in any lyrical play
or musical language
will send me back
to my early childhood
making my thoughts
and aching spirit rise
between two continents.