by Carl Halling

Created on: July 02, 2007   Last Updated: May 03, 2011

Early days as a flâneur

I recall the couple

On the Métro

When I was still innocent

Of its labyrinthine complexities

Slim pretty white girl

Clad head to toe

In new blue denim

Wistfully smiling

While her muscular black beau

Stared straight through me

With fathomless, fulgorous orbs

And one of them spoke

(Almost in a whisper):

"Qu'est-ce-que t'en pense?"

Then it dawned on me…

The slender young Parisienne

With the distant desirous eyes

Was no less male than I

Being screamed at in Pigalle

And then howled at again

By some kind of wild-eyed

Drifter who told me to go

To the Bois de Boulogne to seek

What he clearly saw as my destiny

Getting soused in Les Halles

With Sara

Who’d just seen Dillon as

Rusty James

And was walking around in a daze

Sara again with Jade

At the Caveau de la Huchette

Cash squandered

On a cheap gold-plated tootbrush

Portrait sketched at the Place de Tertre

Paperback books

By Symbolist poets

Second hand volumes

By Trakl and Delève

And a blouson noir from

The Marché de Puces

At the Porte de Clignancourt

Métro taken to Montparnasse

Where I slowly sipped

A demi-blonde

In one of those brasseries

(Perhaps)

Immortalised by Brassai

Bewhiskered loup de mer

In a naval officer's cap,

His table bestrewn

With empty wine bottles

And cigarette butts,

Repeatedly screeched the name

"Phillippe" until a bartender

With patent leather hair,

Filled his wineglass to the brim,

With a mock-obsequious

"Voilà, mon Capitaine!"

I cut into the Rue de Bac,

Traversed the Pont Royal,

Briefly beheld

Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois,

With its gothic tower,

Constructed only latterly,

In order that

The 6th Century church

Might complement

The style of the remainder

Of the 1er Arrondissement

Before steering for the

Place de Châtelet,

And onwards...les Halles!

Afternote: Part of the preceding piece was based on writings for my first major memoir-based writing, while part of it was extracted from a remnant of an ancient piece of writing from the 1980s; yet all the names of people mentioned,  have been changed. Exceptions being famous individuals such as the photographer Brassai; and dear Philippe, wherever he may be.) 

Early days as a flâneur

I recall the couple

On the Métro

When I was still innocent

Of its labyrinthine complexities

Slim pretty white girl

Clad head to toe

In new blue denim

Wistfully smiling

While her muscular black beau

Stared straight through me

With fathomless, fulgorous orbs

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