A Place Where I Belong

Poem
I almost always find
myself at the little pink
house on Rue Saint-Vincent
on the Butte Montmartre.
I go there to see Amala
Landré sing Edith Piaf
songs and to see them play
old French tunes on the
piano. I am in my harlequin
suit and I think of Barcelona
and Els Quatre Gats and of
poor bleeding Casagemas.
I see old Fredé wink at me
and play his guitar and I
think I am precisely where
I am supposed to be.
more by SERGIO REMON ALVAREZ
photograph by Sebastien Gabriel
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