Calisthenics, week 3

This is the result of revising the "when we go to..." piece I began at the beginning of the last class.

When we go to Paris we fall monumentally.
When we go to Paris our insides get twisted and a puppy bites a stranger
Hard.
When we go to Paris the filth creates a film and is obligatorily shuttled
At light speed to vacant corners of xenophobia.
When we go to Paris we extract meaning from this filth and feel
As though we are already one leg up on
The competition.
When we go to Paris we become scarcely ethnic like
Miniature solar flares,
Announcing our arrival in fervor, but
Alone when we leave.
When we go to Paris
We Clutch at the far away and
Faceplant the horizon.
Head long and sullied
We dust ourselves off with a shrug and an utter as
Our guilt crawls into the meatlocker.