Well it passes a quiet hour at home at the end of a long week. Here is my favourite poem. Indeed, this is my favourite poem, by my favourite

poet – the young boyfriend of Paul Verlaine, another mid19th century
French poet. They were both hounded by French society of the time, once
their relationship became very public through some rather more baudy
poems than this one.

I ran away in 1985, at the age of 21, and arrived in Boulogne with 34p
in my pocket, and spent 5 months begging and hitching around Europe,
with one book in my rucksack – the poems of Arthur Rimbaud.

The full text is here.

The video of me reciting it is Genie by Arthur Rimbaud.

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