Paris with Dostoyevsky.

Tucking Dostoyevskys Crime and Punishment into the bedside cabinet of the cheap Paris hotel having cleaned the greasy sink and bidet you walked out on the street breathing in the Parisian air smelling the perfume of the restaurants on the side walks seeing the sights taking photographs as memoirs drinking the wines and beers and that fish with eyes still there putting you off you tried to get out of the cheap cafe but paid for the meal you couldnt eat the fish eye gazing up at you

dead eye battered fish and the Left Bank and night and you taking in the sights and lights and those whores sitting in windows like gifts to have wrapped but not take home or the sexy films you never went to see in those cinemas you just walked by or the Eiffel Tower day right to the top the view splendid the sight historical or those rides on the Metro riding the wrong carriages looking out for the train inspector pretending to be Aussies giving it the yak and later in your hotel room taking out Dostoyevsky

and entering the Russian world of murder and deceit and being followed you imagined by the detective looking out onto he Parisian street from the open window of your room gazing at street corners and shadows or remembering that French girl in the cafe who served you with bright eyes black and white dress and white apron the fine long legs and wiggling behind recalling the old priest who once said too much sex will make you blind.