Punti, Stades, and meters But taking as its head the Queen of night Picosecond dance, lightning/lit The state’s Seine/is nothing new. And the love lockers on the span Are dumb to my staid eyes Beside the Orangerie/gravel Graves and heaps of sand Quarry quit, loquacious quaints. Snap and scurry back like ants. This poem was written by Sammy Dalati. Send an email to [email protected] to get in touch.