Chestnut flowers are falling
In the empty street that smells
Of hospitals and cooking.
The radio is breaking
Somebody’s heart somewhere
In a dirty bedroom. Nobody
Is listening. For ten miles
In either direction
The houses are all empty.
Nobody lives in this city.
Outside the city limits
Are green and white cemeteries.
Nobody is in the graves.
At very long intervals
The broken cast iron fountain
In the courtyard sneezes and spurts.
In the dirty bedroom
Three young whores are shooting dice.
At very long intervals
One of them speaks to the dice.
Otherwise they are silent.
After the chestnut blossoms
Have all fallen the yellow
Sun will set and stars shine
Over the empty city
And papers blow down the street.
Dimanche Bleu
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