each mile


The right path
Jacques Prévert
At each mile
each year
old men with closed faces
point out the road to children
with gestures of reinforced concrete.


Le droit chemin
À chaque kilomètre
chaque année
des vieillards au front borné
indiquent aux enfants la route
d’un geste de ciment armé

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash



-Jacques Prévert

La fermeture éclair a glissé sur tes reins
et tout l’orage heureux de ton corps amoureux
au beau milieu de l’ombre
a éclaté soudain
Et ta robe en tombant sur le parquet ciré
n’a pas fait plus de bruit
qu’une écorce d’orange tombant sur un tapis
Mais sous nos pieds
ses petits boutons de nacre craquaient comme des pépins
joli fruit
la pointe de ton sein
a tracé une nouvelle ligne de chance
dans le creux de ma main
joli fruit
Soleil de nuit.



It has been said many times before that if you have to refer to yourself as a guru, you aren’t one.

Why someone would adopt the term and self-appoint as a “guru”, I can’t really explain… but it’s a damn funny word when it pops up here and there. (Apparently one of my brother’s commanding officers wrote that my brother is a “fitness guru” in his performance review. That cracks me up. Mentioning “commanding officer” reminds me of Jacques Prévert – “Quartier libre“. You know: “Ah good/excuse me I thought one saluted/said the commanding officer/You are fully excused everybody makes mistakes/said the bird.”)

I don’t want to call myself a guru, especially not after the incident a few weeks ago when I told someone I was “in awe of myself”. But given this lifelong blessing/affliction of being something like a therapist to everyone, I feel the urge to apply “guru” to myself just for fun. Just for today. Just because the sun’s out and I am loopy-level tired now.