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Blue shade through wind-blended sounds (The Green Window Sequence)
Paris 20:14
Rue des Ecoles
Café de Paris
stalking on strangely scraped stones—sort of
blood on the leaves
a few getting onto Holiday Street
drinking new age pinballs outside
each voice stirred up somewhat
and time-travels everywhen
and a visage inside a cash till
and coffee maker blowing
for the violent ones
bone-clattering saucers
a tea and an hot chocolate
folded eyes
to leave each other
mother woman’s aware
of rising bespangled satin
smiling and swallowed up
rear lights as red as embers
turning out a Western OM, perhaps
young and slender Opal
Hotel de Sully
fourth window
old songs sifting through a pale Southern light
a bearded man crossing the road
Southern breeze
strange bright crippled blue haze
sweet fresh fragrance
a glass
a reek of lit burnt meat
time-crumpled to rot
beneath a red light
decayed by the sun
blue shade through a crop
fallen waiting
who is Opal Thorne?
does she come from an old newspaper article
perhaps?