Abstract: This article analyses the singular and displaced modernity of Jean-Claude Pirotte, the “poet-ampelographer”, the “sans-papiers on the run”. Tackling the question of verse, it lets us hear this de-lyring, disenchanted song, its “roguish and tragic lyricism hobbling along, mixing the low and the sublime, its brief verse limping, even or odd”, the broken breath of this daily writing nourished by its lean, ordinary meat, ceaselessly disrobing our “locked-up everyday”.
