Yeah, sunny is today at noon; I speak French from ’59; there is a friend who meets me for pastries at that place where Hemingway smoked fat Cubans with coffee.
This time, Paris goes day to day; just four days to buy a corduroy, not knowing what next year brings–I’ll be sixty six.
At least there are two sixes, not just one; and six divided by six is one; does it mean Oneness with The One? Six times six in Marina del Rey, was when they carded me at the club–to see if I was twenty one.
Boy could I run!
Kambiz Naficy
