April in Paris

No, wait, it’s May in California, still it will always be …

Paris by Moonlight

Oh my god, it’s Paris by moonlight
Even the trees are drunk and walking
A single pink slipper floats down the Seine
What kind of trees are those?
Those are trees in Paris by moonlight
And what size is her slipper?
It is the exact size of the sole
We ate in the little restaurant an hour ago
Under the trees in Paris by moonlight
There is no end to our painlessness
The trees will never find it
The slipper never reach it
Morning after morning the smell of coffee
Makes them nauseous
While we go on painlessly in Paris
Barefoot and swaggering
Our aluminum heads in the moon glow so
We are like an advertisement
For those who will come after us
Anyone can see without French
They should just stay in bed

Mary Ruefle

In search of an almond croissant


We’ve been in Paris for almost a week seeing extended family, drinking cafés crèmes and looking at the amazing art. I mentioned to my cousin yesterday that the last time I was in Paris, almond croissants were everywhere, but this time I’d yet to find one. That evening I finally came across some at the Boulanger, bought one for each of us and brought them home for breakfast. My cousin had found them, too, right around the corner, and this morning we had an embarrassment of croissants aux almondes.

We took a couple for the train. But really, one a day is rich enough. I told Larry if we met a beggar, of which Paris has it’s share, I’d offer a croissant. We barely sat down when a man approached asking for change for food. I produced the bag with almonds croissants, but he declined. He would prefer a Euro for a sandwich. Tant pis!

As for art, I’d like to post some photos, but it will have to wait. My computer was stolen from the hotel the first day, and I have no way to upload photos at the moment.