August 30th, 2015
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack, a pack of coloured suitcases rush against the cobblestone tiles, burnt roofs hover over the organized gaggles moving in unison, a sea of different smocks living by many clocks, the bell goes CLANG, CLANG, clanging of the little knife against the plate of this foie gras virgin
-cocktail only please. The Hotel U Prince offers momentary silence, this green terrace is my false barricade. Greeted by salmon, cream, and canary yellow: are they walls or are they art?
Goodbye town square! I waited all morning and saw them mourning in the ancient synagogue, tombs carved with holy scriptures, soft murmur of the flock echoes through the narrow spiral stairs, we remember with ticket booths and golem trinkets. The Charles Bridge groans under the reverie of a thousand memories, over the skies, pass the river-
STOP.
Happiness is deep fried spirals of dough dusted with cinnamon and icing sugar. Nutella is optional.
Medieval points where gargoyles grimace from above, black steel-toe boots trot back and forth, you are being watched, no I’m not looking at you, Mr. Gargoyle, I’m looking at the grey brick walls, turquoise dome, rose window glass, I’m trying to look in, in where saints sang old hymns, new sins confessed and prayers begin.
Slavic souvenir shop and giant red metronome says ‘home’, the black Mercedes against the nonchanlant frames of history is a pair of white leather cowboy boots walking to and fro, waiting for the next-
Young Brits, come party with me, this night of debauchery and ba-che-lor parties, find me by the Burger king past the policie, buy me cheap cigarety and alkohol, good buy you think, good sex I say, absinthe shop lover, love only takes five minutes,
goodbye, cheap kiss, quick stop, fast night.
