Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Paris I.

142. One of the stranger notes that I have ever written. "I, Gazpacho the Soup, hereby give authorization for the hotel C., at X Rue Y, to charge 200 euros to the credit card of Mr. So-and-So."

Of course, in reality I did not refer to myself as Gazpacho the Soup, but that does not reduce the absurdity of me giving permission for the hotel to charge a credit card belonging to someone else.

143. Temporary home.

144. Twenty-five years, by Adam Zagajewski. To his sister, Ewa.

Your dream pulsed in the depths of time, 
a calm, light breath: so travelers sleep
when overtaken by a brief storm at a station
in Tuscany, in a town with dust and wasps. 

You'd be twenty-five now, 

listening to those songs that I can't stand, 
maybe nursing a newly broken heart, 
and I'd be busy making fun of you.

Your calm dream pulses in time's depths; 

children forgotten by their nurse sleep on like this, 
and never waken, and don't leave
the underwater rooms where dolphins weep.


  1. and the nice thing is that the color of the wall matches almost perfectly with the background color of your blog...

  2. That's because I had the ability to predict the future and chose the blog's background color appropriately 1.5 months in advance.

  3. So, does it mean you are going to Canada very soon ?

  4. I fail to see the connection...