paris 19th July - 55 today

Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie - Groovin' High behind me - a pause and now somewhat incongruously the Eagles - Hotel California. But tonight is one of those cracked brown sepia evenings that seem to grow hotter as the light leaves. my bare back already viscous slippy against the once cool crisp 1/2 hour ago pristine white cotton sheets. memories of old-time methadone withdrawal. Now elvis costello - almost blue. So, the photos - me and sue somewhere on the leftbank just out of the blast furnace of the street rue moufflage or some such near the roman amphitheatre. there, awash with moules mariniere and pate d fois gras (almost too intense, too rich for my spartanised islington palate - as it hit my liver i knew how the ducks felt). later the river, each concrete bay a natural theatre of dreams - the first a dignified round of grey haired elegant couples slowly waltzing, the next a flickering host in a portentous tango from the voluptuous heavy-lidded blonde to the bright-eyed nocturnals smiling hunger. And finally, the wild blur of limbs like a single entity that hovered in a circle of angolans singing and drumming. Work tomorrow but fever in the blood.