There Is Hope Of Developpment Poem by Pierre Rausch

He knows from her voice that she's smiling
One thing slipped into another
There are no signs of entry
He feels like he's float -ing
His mouth wide like that of a fish
A « No Entry » pillow
No, whenever she's ready
So hold on

The best tool in the box, they would set up tables
Two piles of boxes, with their head held high
A kind of clicking sound that couldn't inspire love
A lifetime being shared without hesitation

There are no seats anymore
Only one way to make a difference
In little bits of confetti
Around seven in the morning

The best tool in the box, they would set up tables
Two piles of boxes, with their head held high
A kind of clicking sound that couldn't inspire love
A lifetime being shared without hesitation

Pick it up. Sort it out. She didn't mean it.
At the registration desk. I'll take care of it.
By-gone days of mine, by-gone days of yours
A group of tourists and warm croissants

The best tool in the box, they would set up tables
Two piles of boxes, with their head held high
A kind of clicking sound that couldn't inspire love
A lifetime being shared without hesitation