French poets are the greatest of all.
They arrive with different smiles. 
They are used to the sun and to coffee. 
They smoke 
Incessantly.

If you tell them a joke they weep for joy. 
If you tell them a 
Sad story they weep for joy. 
As if they only knew joy.

We others seem 
Pained by comparison. We all smile 
Less than we might, a lesson