decisions and faith

WALK 36

I decide that just walking home is enough. Today i do not need a big adventure - that decision opens enough doors. i have confidence in this cities talents.

They hang like monkeys from the buildings, pulling strips of tape from the walls that coil from their hands like viscous snakes.
A market is celebrated with bunting and balloons.
In a quite street under the balconies oak leaves have been carved into the stone - forever in fall.
She bends over her crutches, her dry grey hair covering her face, she prays to her small brown yogurt pot.
On crossing roads the streets open up, the metro track rolls away, like great rivers cutting through mountains, gleaming slug slime, scooping a pathway out of the city.
Yellow post boxes stand back to back, ready for the countdown, ready for shoot out. here the clock strikes twelve. dong...dong...dong...dong..dong...dong...dong...dong...dong...dong...dong...dong
Trocodero jingles.
the world 'SALAD' is engraved in a tree.
In the the patisserie are two blue roosters.
Two business men leave a Chinese restaurant they walk under scaffolding with their hands in their pockets.
The gates to parc morceau are black with gold frills, the faces of lions stare down at the passing cyclists.
i pass spider webbed Christmas trees that are guarded by a lady in a green bandanna and a has a lip piercing.
i find a rare pedestrianised street that makes me change direction, round the corner is a fish tank of blue and yellow neon fish, they blow kisses at me through purple smoke.
children stand aproned around the table, their hands a grey.
at place de clichy the background is bright blue where the white fluffy trail of a plane disappears behind the statues stern face. his out stretched arm holds her back from tearing though avenue de clichy.

It is a matter of direction, time and faith.
walking restores me faith.
The city performs.