searching for Paris

I was drinking my Paris nights

searching for Parisians in the cool April air

as my bottle got empty, the streets got crowded

and I needed a beer.

at the kiosk an arab told me something about a bear

that was decorated with the Croix de guerre,

but nobody cared

so I left;

groups of individuals were smoking their cigarettes

outside the bars and I felt the scent of burning Gauloises.

after I filled my surroundings with strangers

I decided to explore some more

and off I went to Rue Mouffetard.

but not far, just on Gobelins, there she was, parking her bike

with a large sweater and a multicolored knee dress

at first, I thought she wanted to impress

she said bonsoir

hypnotized by her smile and her perfect French

I barely said Hello, I am…

and then it started to flow

her face had this glow when she puffed the smoke

amazed, I saw every detail, which rushed to my eyes painting surrealistic images

of her riding an unicorn over the graves from Père Lachaise.

unfortunately she had to go to her boyfriend, her partner in crime

she killed me with a hug and said au revoir.

throwing my arms around Paris like Morrissey

I arrived on Mouffetard, my burial ground for another three hours

as my view got blurry I was in a hurry to find a pub

but nothing appeared so I mingled on the street that smelled like kebab,

Indian incense and Chinese cuisine.

on the way to the motel I walked like a drunk Parisian

and talked into French, in my mind, visions of blossomed oleanders

and my little parisienne girl smiled as the sun was rising, the coffee was hot

the table was round, la Seine flowed and le garcon called me Gainsbourg.

through my sunglasses I saw “le soleil au zenith”.