I’m still in Paris.
Yesterday rugby happened. Ireland played Italy
And played well for the first time since the world cup.
I watched with Dan, in a Parisian Irish Bar on the left bank, with his friend Owen from Pimlico – Born hard and late.
Topped it all off with another tartare.
I imagine the food in Scandinavia is going to be fishier – less meat.
I leave Paris tomorrow.
To see a city so rich and elegant
with fragments blown together on the wind.
The melting pot of a once great empire.
Cultural stew of snouts and arse,
prime cuts and the
wholesome spice of home.
broken not in paschal piety
but for fellow man regardless
of color or creed