Solving Paris from Chatou

In this land of alien skins –

too pale or too dark

i mixed my palette betwixt,

snaked into hissing trains,

and instantly, was lost.

In this land of alien sounds –

too fast and too sweet

i risked my tongue and palate

to eke the ‘eu’s and roll the ‘r’s

and bring the riddles to their knees

In this land of alien winds

howling on the panes

every day I take a trip

with coat and cap and woollen scarf

to dream-walk Paris,

and then return to Chatou

to wake my dreams in sleep.

Still Life, Basque Country

Skies laced in white clouds,

no birds on their wing

Hills greens as meadows

with fences in between

Winterprint of fossils on the branches

The skyline lines the skeletons of trees

which wait by a white house

for cherry-white to spring

The sheep forget to nibble and to graze

The wind leans and stops for a breeze

I stand on my bi-pod,

at Olavera,

put pen to paper

and the tripod for this photo

is complete.

For Francis

<< … We know how to speak many

false things as if they were true …>>

Hesiod, Theogany, 7^th c. B.C.

First, we didn’t believe

the malady, since it had come

without much reason.

And now, after a month

of poisoning those snakes,

when time slowed to stagnance,

and hope was hung so low,

we believe that

all was – and would be – well

If only we could lie to the inner voice,

this honest lies would be better believed.

All along I’d told them all

that you were well

and then I watched this Hesiod falseness

turn to truth.