216.73.216.97--0.0.0.216GE
Scene/seen, from the floor of Room XIX
Lundi matin au Francfort International
-Where's Barack?
-Aux Bahamas?
"Plesed to meet you." and other niaiseries du genre!
Somewhere on Cartier Avenue, he asked, politely: Voulez-vous contribuer au fond de SOS Suicide? From 10AM to when? I left at 3PM, he kepted on asking.
"Every budding dictatorship begins by muzzling the artists, because they're a mouthy lot and they don't line up and salute very easily?Maybe that's why Mr. Harper began by shutting down funding for artists abroad." Margaret Atwood in the Globe and Mail, today.
?but everything else, it seems, was!
"El Nino Dios se ha perdido.
Su Madre lo anda buscanda.
Lo encuentra aorillas del rio,
De juerga con los gitanos."
Burgundy Lips and all!!
?Non?
"?Laissez-moi m'etouffer
Grain a grain
Avec tous ces sabliers
Coincesa dans ma gorge?" MS-DL
"On ne fera jamais assez l'eloge des fesses. On fremit en pensant qu'un caprice de la creation aurait pu priver l'homme et la femme de cette rondeur ou vient se refugier tout ce qu'il y a en eux de plus tendre, passif, aveuglement confiant, et voue aux coups et aux obscurs devouements. Car la fesse, helas, redoute la fessee, comme elle se veut pudiquement voilee. On ne la denude le plus souvent que pour lui faire subir des sevices, alors qu'elle appelle de toute sa douceur les baisers les plus sonores. On lui prete des penchants masochistes?alors qu'elle n'est que soif de tendresse."
While Ike arrived in town!
Seven years later, he reappeared in my dreams, and always inquiring about contemporary issues. I meant to ask him where he lives but did not. Was I afraid of the answer?
At 10AM seven years ago. Was walking towards the National Assembly, a riend called and asked:
-You watching television?
-No.
-They've attacked NY!
-What? Who? How?
-I don't think anyone will be working today!
-And where's Bush?
-Gone hiding!
-Of course!!
Ever tried reading poetry in a park at six in the morning?
"Mais ce nom, Petit-Champlain? Il y aurait un autre Champlain que Samuel?" Pierre Caron, Promenades a Quebec
You are cordially invited to a cocktail. Dress Code: Wear and Tear. Or is this just a serious case of a dire need to stock up on stockings for the Indian Summer in waiting?
I don't know whether I was asleep or awake but they were there, I felt their caressing moves and curves over, around, and through my body in the dark. Chilling? Yes. Scary? No. She then told me: "The words are written on you, all you have to do is lay them on paper."
"Mais toute une categorie d'hommes et de femmes ne se reconnaissent que dans les branches horizontales et leur feuillage. C'est le poumon de l'arbre, les mille et mille ailes qui battent comme pour s'envoler, les mille et mille langues qui murmurent toutes ensemble quand un souffle de vent passe par l'arbre." Michel Tournier, Petites proses
Street of the Fishing Cat, and an existentialist question in passing!
Last night, Mahikanuu came back in my dreams, and asked questions about my Meskanaw, and if I found it long (Beedchewaw a?)?
?in a city that fun forgot!
?in a city that fun forgot!
?in a city that fun forgot!
