By Paul-Jean Toulet
Décor d'encre. Sur le ciel terne
Court un fil de fer:
Mansarde où l'on aima, vanterne
Sans carreaux, où l'on a souffert.
Une enfant fait le pied de grue
Le long du trottoir.
Le bistro, du bout de la rue,
Ouvre un oeil de sang dans le noir;
Tandis qu'on pense à sa province,
A Faustine, à Zo'...
Mais c'est pour Lilith que j'en pince:
Autres chansons, autres oiseaux.
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Wednesday was a beautiful day until the cold front blew through, bringing first high winds, then rain, then much cooler temperatures which made for a lovely evening before it got so chilly we had to close the windows. I didn't do much for Earth Day besides the usual (turn off lights and check faucets, sign state environmental petitions, avoid eating meat), but I definitely appreciated the beauty of this planet in our neighborhood of pink and white and purple flowers.
Now I'm totally distracted by Russell Crowe on The Tonight Show, before which we caught up on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (I've been so bored this season with all the generic new characters that I was actually excited to see Ward) and watched this week's Nashville (stop bitching and form a sisterhood, young women, and just give him a piece of your liver already, Maddie). Here are some photos from around Montmartre in Paris, both the sublime and the profane:
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