At Jim Morrison’s Grave

(Père Lachaise Cemetery, Paris)

by Bill Berkowitz / January 18th, 2026

I’m not sure you’d care,
but they’re still coming, Jimmy.
More than fifty years gone,
and they still find their way here.
Young and old.
Couples hand-in-hand,
Tourists in packs, eyes wide with wonder,
Phones raised.
Few are somber.
Most are eager to find your simple stone,
After blocks of cobblestone paths through Père Lachaise Cemetery.
You still outdraw Molière, Chopin, Bizet, Proust,
Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf, Maria Callas.
Some bring flowers,
Some scrawl messages on neighboring graves.
And I’ll tell you this:
Not a hundred feet from your tomb,
Stands the Mur des Fédérés—
A wall honoring the 147 workers of Belleville,
Executed on 28 May 1871.
Defenders of a revolution.

Bill Berkowitz is a longtime observer of the conservative movement. Read other articles by Bill.

This article was posted on Sunday, January 18th, 2026 at 8:00am and is filed under Poetry.