He escaped under the bridges of Paris:-
And inside a jar beat the heart of Chou d’amour.
Once a dissection turned expedition to Le Maison.
Fancy him mad?
This ripper with his Petit-Coeur;
Of royal blood that day smuggled in a handkerchief.
A scalpel to flesh in temple prison.
Now with him it traverses;
Paris bridges, Libraries, churches and on to Le Maison.
This madman and his madness to him; unknown.
Whilst the dying drum weeps in its vitreous home.
In autopsy swindled from the evermore doomed boy,
Identified by a strand of hair in a scientist joy.
An investigation of experimentation and of chance,
To be the son of the trialled then headless;
'L’Autre chienne'.
