I'm In Paris With You ~ James Fenton

Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful

And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.

I'm one of your talking wounded.

I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.

But I'm in Paris with you.


Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled

And resentful at the mess that I've been through.

I admit I'm on the rebound

And I don't care where are we bound.

I'm in Paris with you.


Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre,

If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,

If we skip the Champs Elysees

And remain here in this sleazy

Old hotel room

Doing this and that,

To what and whom

Learning who you are,

Learning what I am.


Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris,

The little bit of Paris in our view.

There's that crack across the ceiling

And the hotel walls are peeling

And I'm in Paris with you.


Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris.

I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do.

I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,

I'm in Paris with...all points south.

Am I embarrassing you?

I'm in Paris with you.

_________

My friend and I were talking about this poem earlier. It'd be interesting to know, if anyone ever reads this (:P): do people think he's falling for the "you"?

It sounds like a rebound, but then the last stanza starts to cast doubt in our minds. It's interesting.

I have a very romanticised view of Paris. I've never been, though am hoping to go soon...but I think this represents my naively romanticised view of what the negative parts of it are like. A cross between this and 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' (which is a fantastic book, btw, as well as a great Disney film). Of course, I'm sure it's actually much different and much nastier, but...that's how I imagine it to be.