I Have Not Been to Paris and Algiers


I have been up the hill
Up Temple Street
Up to the quieted apartment of Tom Rosie...

Heard
The new music from Bob Dylan
Heard
Song after song for the first time
Heard
The theory of jazz
Heard
Tony becoming professor of sociology
Heard Henry
Making me into his poet

Made memory not for everyone,
But for us, our circle of friends,
Whose ripples hardly made it out to the night...

Dark, shallow pool...
Died in the night,
Promised without constancy.

While Tom and his girl banged furniture against the walls
All night long so the rest of us would not know
They were talking all night, not just fucking...

All of us in a motion
Interrupted
By what we thought we should do.

I have not been worldly.
The world has come to me.

In this world of instant communication, it's difficult not to see outside one's windows.


Les

Peter, I think this is my favorite thing I've ever read of yours. It's fantastic and the last line clenches it. Love it.

Thanks,

Peter