White Coat Street

White Coat Street

On White Coat Street
they raised the trestles
put the bran in a bucket
the shiny blade
a harvest wind
the sun to fry red stains
cries of joy
cries of fear
steam rising to black roofs
triumphant bloody glee
the bran dried in the sun
red and brown and green
the homeless eyes bled dust
and heads rolled in the gutter
the scythe had fallen early
On White Coat Street

La Rue Des Blancs-Manteaux is an actual street in Paris with an historical, bloody significance in the French Revolution. This poem was written so long ago, I had to read up on it again to find that Jean-Paul Sartre wrote the lyrics to the song made famous by Juliette Greco. I apparently translated part of Sartre’s verse from the French on my own, and used it here as part of an assignment on “found” poetry.