It was a flash rain and we ducked into Le Select. The rain came down quick and fast and the servers tipped the chairs outside so the puddles wouldn’t collect. Water came down quick off the awning and it was quiet on the inside of the floor to ceiling glass. We sat down. I acted [...]
Archive for March, 2009
What looks good?
Posted in short shorts, tagged chicken, date, le select, montparnasse, paris, phone-booth, salad, Smart car on March 31, 2009 | 1 Comment »
some quick images of paris this sunday.
Posted in places, poetry, tagged accents, bench, cigarettes, fountain, hardwood floors, luggage, metro, morning, paris, park, pigeon, rain, scooters, springtime, sun, wine on March 30, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
Paris park with pigeons and fountains
last night’s wine bottle
tipped over
under the bench.
Late morning
bright paris springtime sun
open windows top floor
ten foot shadows on hardwood.
Scooters upon scooters
upon scooters upon
scooters upon scooters
upon scooters upon
scooters parked outside
the Japanese restaurant.
Accents down the
metro stairs
carrying luggage.
Cigarettes upon cigarettes
upon cigarettes upon
cigarettes upon cigarettes
upon cigarettes upon
cigarettes piled up
next to the sewege grate
after the rain.
it’s friday night and i’ve only got stories to tell.
Posted in my life, tagged abe lincoln, amy hempel, chicago, colorado, cory, egg plant, garden, greens, happiness, illinois, jeremy, legitimacy, melancholy, New York, paris, reflection, texas, writing on March 27, 2009 | 3 Comments »
writing hasn’t been happening much lately which has a direct correlation with my state of unrest. summer is coming and i’m leaving paris soon right at the moment when i gave my first completely unselfish hug. i watched a lecture today about living forever and the developing the technology to do it. and people asked, [...]
apples and honey.
Posted in poetry, tagged apples, beard, bowl, honey, pottery, river, truffles on March 26, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
I met a man
down by the river who
made bowls
pottery bowls
with the river water
and truffles too
chocolate ones
with the river water
and they melted
when you ate them,
almost down your throat.
i once brought him apples
and honey
and the honey got caught
in his long long beard.
à table.
Posted in short shorts, tagged 1924, Arabic, gate., insomnia, Lyon, Marseille, neighbors, old, paris, sharp, tea, theater, wood on March 24, 2009 | 1 Comment »
First night of spring and the downstairs neighbor knocks on my door. Can’t sleep, he tells me and I ask why. ”When I was eleven, or maybe twelve,” he says, and I think here we go and boil some water for tea.
“How long ago was that?” I ask him.
“1924,” he says. ”I took the train [...]
My Sunday adventure in the first and eleventh…
Posted in places, tagged balcony, coffee, dance dance revolution, Garance Doré, ghosts, graffiti, heels, Louis XIV, paris, Picasso, revolution, sky, Swedish on March 23, 2009 | 1 Comment »
On my Sunday adventure I…
… found out my boss rocks the streets
… experienced utter tragedy on the steps of the Swedish Cultural Center.
… played art art revolution. and in heels!
… saw that all lines lead to Picasso.
… peered from a balcony across the street into little baby Louis XIV crib after bedtime hours.
… shot an album cover. [...]
A Haiku for Your Friday.
Posted in poetry, tagged american haiku, books, garden, grass, haiku, monet, wind on March 20, 2009 | 3 Comments »
My book in the grass
The wind
Flipping its pages
Commute.
Posted in poetry, tagged apartments, beautiful, metro on March 19, 2009 | 1 Comment »
Some people, in the dull yellow
light of the mètro, the
glass bottle of coke, rolling
hitting the wall at every
stop
with un petit piece s’il vous plaît
un ticket resto, still
look beautiful
and go home
to empty apartments.
Triple shot.
Posted in Triple Shots, tagged beauty, breakfast, darius, diner, springtime, wine on March 18, 2009 | 1 Comment »
No stories end tragically in springtime.
———–
My friend Darius used to make me get diner breakfasts with him at 5:30 a.m. He said people were more honest in the early morning.
———–
I wish I knew a better word for beauty than beauty. This thought always seems really profound to me after a few glasses of wine.
