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My favourite smell
Isn’t Chanel,
Nor is it the whiff of Ma Griffe.

Nor even the bouquet
Of Lagerfeld’s Chloe
Nor yet Anais Anais.

No, the scent above all
That would tempt me to fall
Is not as exclusive as these.

The spreading of tar
Is more fragrant by far
Than even Givenchy Ysatis.

If I’m driving around
With the window wound down
And I spot a steam roller all black

Then my Bisto kid face
Will inhale every trace
Of that beautiful Eau de Tarmac.


Latou    1996

Main Index / Jottings Index