Mike Bell/ September 25, 2021/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

Algerian heat is a drawn
out decline for any man
in a padded cell – Paris –

his 6th arrondissement
blocks of cold stone – &
fervent gossip burnt – &

Lourmarin could be less
consuming – Meursault –
so little said about it all –

& Camus too [L’Etranger
translated to whatever]
& simple words do little

to make it easy – modest
writing – four shots – sun
on bodies underlined by

four bullets as heat bled
from a dead Arab [death
with no shaded ending]

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