through an avenue of black woods passed
a single nun
riding a bicycle
a policeman is crossing himself
in front of the cathedral
a single cathedral made out of lace
an old woman offering love
for only thirty franc
plus a room
in one shop on the corner
they're selling warm pyjamas
and chewing gum
for dogs
a drunken sailor
in the street's embrace
in one cabaret they're serving
cocoa and sour liquer
a tall man from Congo
who looks like a cangaroo
is publicly dying
of nostalgia
the eyes of a young waitress
in cabaret Italy
look like the eyes of Modigliani's
women
a drunken German remembers
a Polish girl named Marija Kaczynska
who he kissed
in 1943
with one hand
on his gun
the other on her left boob
one out of tune
piano
reminds me of the harbor of salvation
in Paris
where I cried one evening
while watching a love couple
hugging
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