J'aime toi...
Il n'y a pas de problem
Tu as sportif et elegant
Et je suis amusant et sympa

J'aime toi...
Parce-que tu et j'etes
Parfait

Pourqoi fais-tu ceci?
J'aime toi
Tu as un singe stupid
Pourqoi aime-je?
Maintenant je n'aime pas toi...

J'aime il.

En Francais of course, it is
a storage place for bread.

In rural villages all over La France,
Boulanger's  are ceasing to exist.

The young no longer want to work
what they see as inclement  hours.

Le Coq Sportif has become lazy, so
bread is delivered to a Depot de Pain.

I lived in Lacoste en Luberon dans
la Vaucluse de Provence, sud de France.

It was the home of Le Marquis de Sade,
who lent his name to the adjective Sadism.

I often wondered, when tourists, not familiar
with French, thought when they saw "Depot de Pain".

Would that be a serendipitous symbiosis, or a
coincidental metaphor, for du Pain and Pain (hurt)?

Spring Forward
Fall back.

I was up before the hen's
today

Le Coq Sportif was
caught napping.

Between the fog, the Luberon
Mountain and the hour change,

The Sun can no longer be
depended on.

According to the French it is
their fate, in other words no
free will, sort a contradicts
the revolution, perhaps why
it was such a dismal failure.

I hit a Coq today, at sun up
just before he doodle doo'd.

Pas Sportif, Mais Le Destin!


ps.

2020 - 1789 = 231 years later
the Yellow Vests failed again.
It's like Scottish Independence.

I have enough of The French
their shutters, opening hours,
restrictions, and speed limits.

Everyone goes to bed with the
hens, so 'Le Joie de Vivre' has
a self imposed ****** curfew.

Vive La France, Le Coq Sportif
Allez Le Bleu, La Résistance
are all a load of made up Merde.

Charles de Gallstone high tailed
it across the channel after he
hoisted Le Drapeau Blanche.

F.C.U.K. them, they hate every-
-one including themselves and
Edit Piaf gives me the ****’s.