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Steven Fried
Poems
Aug 2013
Paris 1
The desolate feeling of being in a foreign country and having a case of the monolinguistics…is done to death.
The constant smell of burning cigarettes is
nothing new.
The pick pockets who give the city a bad name are
unfixable and unshakeable.
The attraction for the brightest minds in the world though…
that's impressive, inexpressible, and so utterly obvious.
The stunning structures,
warm atmosphere,
and beautiful architecture,
don't hurt.
Written by
Steven Fried
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