Dear Paris,

Your baguettes and pâtisseries are awesomealicious.
How do you make a simple combo like ham, butter, and bread
taste like a flavour rave in my mouth?
Your Renaults, Peugots, and Smart cars are way adorable,
I just want to hug and eat them up like great metallic marshmallows.
Your lack of baby changing tables, however, is positively third world.
Ditto for limited ramps and elevators in the métro.
Where’s the baby love?
Okay, your chic baby clothes and nifty kids’ toys redeem you a smidge.
But don’t get too smug, Paris.
I’ve got my poetic eye on you.

Greg Santos
Paris, France
November 11, 2010


Anonymous said...

lovely poem. like any poem; has its shares of controversy. i like the lack of ramps in euro subways - makes us do more excercise - healthier later! :)

Greg Santos said...

Thanks! But speaking as a parent now, carrying a baby in a heavy stroller up and down many flights of stairs in the metros is not the safest and not very fun. It also makes me feel bad for handicapped folks. Of course, I am glad it's helping me work off all the yummy pastries I've been eating!