That’s part of the charm
It will do you no harm
As the distemper flaked off the ceiling
You move around the room
More of a tomb
Between the bed, the wall and the gas ring
Three flights of stairs
Rickety chairs
And a shower that guesses the heat
The sun in the west
Heat past its best
As pigeons court on the terrace
Here for a rest
The alley streets we fest
It’s really nice being in Nice
