if only.
back in paris.
going to accept my award.
going to start writing things with more structure on this blog.
make it far more anonymous than it is...
besides,the radio show died....
i've had no luck finding an appartment during my stay. no one will return my calls or anything...
some writing borrowed from my buddy ina julien... here goes:
each noise stings
at the fingertips
a shift of skin
with occupational whim
and the sleeplessness brakes
the strength in my spine
holds it up
and away
out of reach
sensitizing me to sudden
everythings
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