Dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer
Dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer
I was dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer
when a young woman stopped me,
and said, “Madame, you are superbe.”
She told me twice, Madame you are superbe
But I didn’t feel superb.
Hadn’t for a long time, if ever at all.
How is superb supposed to feel
when you're dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer?
Later I visited my doctor to
ask if there was anything she could give for
treatment of the human condition; explain the
woman had told me I was superbe.
The doctor laughed, and said
there was nothing for it I could take,
apart from anti-depressants,
if you're depressed, are you, not superb?
She asked if I needed to take a break. Shall I sign you off, she said?
Maybe some time spent, alone in bed?
No, I said. She suggested I chose values,
acceptance, rebellion, indifference or hope.
I went away, bemused
realising there is no choice
to be made, you need all values
in your armour to face despair
when you’re dancing in Boulogne Sur mer.
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