Rocamadour
Thus, in Paris are like mushrooms, grow in the banisters of the stairs, dark rooms where smells of grease, where people make love all the time and then put fried eggs and Vivaldi discs, light cigarettes and talks like Horace and Gregorovius and Wong and I, Rocamadour, as Parrot and Ronald and Babs, we all love and fry eggs and smoked, ah, you can not know all that smoke, all that we love, unemployed, lying, kneeling, hands, mouths, crying, singing, and out there all the windows open to air and that starts with a sparrow or a leak, it rains a lot here, Rocamadour, much more than in the field and things rust, gutters, the legs of the pigeons, the wires with which Horace makes sculptures. We have almost no clothes, we managed with so little, a good coat, shoes where water does not enter, we are very dirty, everyone is very dirty and beautiful in Paris, Rocamadour, the beds at night and smell a heavy sleeper , below is fluff and books ...
Rayuela, chap. 32
Mouffettard Rue. Paris V
Champs Elysées. Paris VIII
Clignancourt Flea. Paris XVIII
Parc Georges Brassens. Book Fair. Paris XV
Rue Rivoli. Paris I
Rue Cloche Perce. Paris IV
Sevigné Street. Paris III
Champs Elysées. Paris VIII
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