ON-AIRES

Ahçĕne, do you have kids?

14 girls, 1 boy. 

In 1970 my mother said to me that i could have left Algeria only once i had a child. 

Can i ask you something?

Why is Jesus there, hanging on your wall? 

I believe in everything. 

Everything i feel or hear. 

Everything- but people.

(They just called me. 

from the water clock the drops unfold

in lazy honey or ethereal gold

that over time reiterates a weave

eternal, fragile, enigmatic, bright.

I fear that every one will be the last.

They are a yesterday come from the past.

But from what shrine, from what mountain’s slight

garden, what vigils by an unknown sea,

and from what modest melancholy, from

what lost and rediscovered afternoon

do they arrive at their far future: me?

Who knows? No matter. When I hear it play

I am. I want to be. I bleed away.

7401. Please, Please, Please

PLAY THAT RAï FOR ME

I can easily be on the main deserted road of a spanish earthy village, a frontier's spot where strangers like me feel at ease or in some remote place of a southern country being waiting for something to happen.

Finding the only bar in the neighborhood.

The place is empty, the neon lights penetrate, a jukebox stands in the corner reflecting his lights, two people arrive and sit at the bar but they don't talk. 

The public phone rings. 

The old woman with dark deep blue eyes answers.

The young lady with the same eyes stands behind the bar eating a pastry that she offers me.

She doesn't really speak my language but we laugh.

I put a song.

The door is broken and upstairs there is a hotel where the rooms are rent by month.

For a moment i completely forgot where i am.

While being in Paris.

Disappear Here.

1 coin, 4 songs.

Mating Dance