i write for the figaro
he tells me
loosening his tie
oh
i say
okay
well im guessing you write for le monde or some other left wing paper
he says, now only half-smiling, taking a sip of his beer
who do you write for?
i write for my public
i tell him
with a flourish of a hand
and a tiny wink
i write for the crack whores and the battered wives
for the paperless immigrants and the social climbers
for women who kneel on empty churches
and those who count coins outside a kebab place
i write for the stain of natural wine on a borrowed shirt
for the delicate sword dance with my banker
bartering bone and white promises
floating somewhere
just above an overdraft
mister figaro man
keep your figures
and your startups
keep your golden triangle
and your hands clean
keep that wedding ring cold and dry on your finger
keep my perfume on your skin
keep the wooden deity in your study
pillaged from the colonies
and keep your patience long
keep your leather car seats warm
i'll keep my lentils
i'll keep my day job
and the pictures of my bruises
and you
keep that cote d'azur villa
cold and empty in the winter
keep your polanski apologies
and save your dirty pictures for your poor wife
keep the whisky from her expensive china
and the vintage watches in the safe
i'll keep my prada too
and my mother's love
keep sucking on that olive
i'll buy you your drink
love it ❤️