sitting by the window. with the sounds of some nondescript parisian accordion sounding bourgeoisie muzak playing overhead. all the while I write poetry in a coffee shop. ******* this may be the trite-est of ironies any explanation would not be weight bearing for this ridiculous setting. only suitable for student films, with a beret on top. who by no fault of their own originate in new york by way of black and white paree. cigarettes and drowsy violins, odd bedfellows and conjoined twins.