Paris

Paris’s Five O’clock Shadow

Paris metro was a scary place full of robot people with glued lips.
Many ghosts they walked right through me and up stairs. I don’t
think robots or ghouls had teeth. I did see Senegal workers
knocking down a wall, they had white teeth and smiled. I know
the man who helped modernize the metro, he is a red beard and
often smiles despite he just married off his daughters, or is that
the reason he smiles, they could have ended up unmarried sit on
a sofa and never giving him peace of mind. I got lost it was night
when I stumbled up and out of this manmade conflagration, far
from the centre of Paris. In streets were women swam about,
they smiled and I felt like a halibut lost in shark infested sea.
Ten years ago one of them might have lured me into a cove lit by
a 40 amp lamp, I would have spent days worrying whether I had
contracted a venereal disease; there is something to be said for
impotence. If I were a bishop my parishioners would be safe.
Found a bistro; good food and wine much cheaper than uptown.
Louvre? I have seen the postcard, who wants to see Versailles,
this gilded whore house for depraved royals.