Five minutes after the first
and so-far only time a young man
has offered me (a foreigner)
a seat on public transport,
I went on an Alms-Spree
in the ghastly Gare du Nord
(yes, I was in Gay Paree)
and passed on all my considerable
change, and a note,
to beggars in the corridors
whose beauty took me by the throat.
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