Heim Maxime

I Am the City

I remember them, the two lovers, standing there by the canal

hands longing for each other, shaking like victims of the grand mal

She told him: Ceci n’est pas très romantique and watched

as mud and grime swam by

the lovers laughed and figured they were worth a try.


I remember them, the lovers standing there all day

tanning under rain, blistering in the pearl afternoon sun

She told him : Un jour je reviendrai. ça, je te le promets,

and she died from partying too hard, the legend’s scorn.


I remember them, one of the lovers standing there, now tanning alone under rain

laughing a hollow laughter, thinking about what comes after

thinking about when he said I love you, when he needed to hear you say, I love you too—

a shadow of pain now stuck to his face, the numb pain of a dream that never came.


I remember them, one of the lovers standing there, no longer tanning under rain

talking to a picture : Ma chère, ton sourire est comme la mer

d’abord il avance, puis il repart doucement, en arrière. Tu me l’as dit

je te le promet, Un jour je reviendrai.


She never came back.

He remembers, sometimes, on a rainy day,

life is good, in a way.


I remember them, the lovers, no longer standing there by the canal

one gone

the other picking up cigarette butts she liked to drag on

I told him: You are wasting yourself on reality. He answered:

Je ne comprends pas, je veux être gâchis par la réalité.


I remember them, those around the lovers, standing there by the canal

mourning the lover still alive, mourning the lover before his grand mal.


I am the City. And I remember them

the collective trauma stacked on me will not die.

I remember them

the losses that made you think everything was over.

I remember them

the victories that reminded you there is tomorrow after.

I remember them

each kid scraping their knees on me, their lives bleeding in my concrete cracks.


I remember them, the lovers by the canal, who came back each generation

wasted more than before.

I am the City. I exist inside you when you shiver

You run each day through my liver and pass out

past the river.

Envoyé: 22:39 Mon, 13 March 2023 by : Heim Maxime age : 25