I once saw a man, a boy, running up a New York street—Fifth Avenue, to be exact, from 37^th—with a piano on his back and scarf trailing like a cape. He made music, I made poems. We both believed in love and beauty and travel and cities, like others believe in dogma, nations, gods, money.

We went on a journey. It was inevitable. An auditory pilgrimage to cities we fell in love with, which we marked with our shoes, which marked us. Three cities, to start: Beirut, New York, Paris.

City Rhapsodies: Vol. I.

Dear world,
It’s out.

This is an auditory trip, in music and words, with Alex Wakim and me. Come with us, somewhere gorgeous. Close your eyes and listen. And imagine, taste, smell, feel… Ready?

PARIS

A girl came in the café and sat

by herself
At a table near the window.

I wished I could put her in the story,
or anywhere,
but

she had placed herself so she could watch the street and the entry
and I knew she was waiting for someone. 

So I went on writing.

I ordered another
rum St. James and I watched
the girl

whenever I looked up,

I’ve seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now,
whoever you are waiting for

and if I never see you again,

you belong to me 
and
all Paris belongs to me.

–           Ernest Hemingway