Poetic Lotto - Fabrice Melquiot

To those who wonder what it is, it is indeed a lottery.
It is a matter of having in front of you the boxes on which his favourite numbers appear.
It is a matter of placing the small four-leaf clovers on the numbers drawn at random and filling out before the others his line or cardboard, to win the prizes put into play.
Who hasn't dreamed of winning the fillet, toaster or ham of the country? Who didn't expect to shout "Quine!" or "Cardboard!" for the big prizes? Who didn't blow to the master of ceremonies "Rebouille, it's always the same numbers that come out! Come on, bag! ».
Cardboard! No, we are not afraid to put in contact a Vaud sausage and the poetry of Louis Aragon! No, we don't think it's good to spread the magic of filled baskets! We throw the cotillions as we run towards the beautiful charged silences that poetry knows how to invent; with the same appetite, the same energy. We dare to bring together Edith Piaf and Robert Desnos, Stromae and Pablo Neruda, Philippe Katerine and Jacques Prévert

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