I feel a train running through me,
a pulsing in my ears
a shaking of my bones -
I get up.
It is 3AM.
I feed Lily and Sammy, and while
standing in the kitchen
I hear the distant freight train outside.
I go to my studio and turn on Radio Classique en Francais.
The announcers speak much faster than my French teachers ever did.
Still, I swoon.
The language is sexy and delicious,
like chocolate -
my radio is a chocolate passport to Paris.
Unlike the French
I do not drink wine -
I drink seltzer. The Jewish champagne
bubbles dance on my tongue.
The train has passed, the radio
is playing Debussy or is it Ravel.
Au revoir, mes amis.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
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