Pam Brown
Paris, France
Without a notebook
or, at least,
not writing,
I sat outdoors
in the same bustling street,
rue Vieille-du-Temple,
on my last day
last year in Paris
& what I thought
was that I didn’t want to leave
and, like Gertrude Stein,
I thought
"It’s funny about dogs."
(she thought
dogs resemble their nations)
and
about
the story in Paris,
France
about the
nice story
of a dog
-
There was a girl in a café
who was very fond of a dog
who used to come there
regularly
with a man
and
she regularly gave the dog
a lump of
sugar,
one day
the man came in without
the dog
and said the dog was dead.
The girl had
the lump of sugar in her hand
and when she heard the dog was dead
tears came to her
eyes
and she
ate the lump of sugar.
On my very first visit to Paris,
almost a decade ago now,
I went to 37, rue de Fleurus
to see where Gertrude & Alice had
lived
and I photographed the
building.
On my second visit,
five years ago,
I entered
the courtyard
at 37, rue de Fleurus
at lunch-time &
heard
piano music
floating
from the upstairs apartment,
their apartment,
& cooking smells
& clinking plates
(as everyone
in France has lunch - returning home
from work, from school)
- the building unrenovated,
unpretentious,
lived-in.
On my third visit,
two years ago,
I read
her book Paris,
France
and so last year
I
could think
"It’s funny about
dogs."
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