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“I dreamt I was in Paris” by Jen Booton
“I dreamt I was in Paris” Jen Booton I dreamt I was in Paris scents of coffee and absinthe wafting as olfactory wind chimes typewriters snug on Boulevard Montparnasse tables peppered with burgeoning authors lost among their own generation but destined to be famous for centuries.
Drunk on wine, cigarettes and delusion sturdy as centenarian tree roots that their precious moment in time, after war, was all that mattered, which of course they were right a ripple in the energetic tapestry of life connecting them with me here, 100 years
Later on a wooden table snug against a Smith-Corona drunk on the belief that this sliver of presence means just as much as it did to them and that maybe it wasn't a dream after all but a memory as we find ourselves over and over again through the timeless echo of ink-drenched words.
Drunk on wine, cigarettes and delusion sturdy as centenarian tree roots that their precious moment in time, after war, was all that mattered, which of course they were right a ripple in the energetic tapestry of life connecting them with me here, 100 years
Later on a wooden table snug against a Smith-Corona drunk on the belief that this sliver of presence means just as much as it did to them and that maybe it wasn't a dream after all but a memory as we find ourselves over and over again through the timeless echo of ink-drenched words.
More from Jen Booton ↓
- @jenthepoeta on Instagram
- She runs Mística Holistica, a mystic shop and tea house in Avellanas, Costa Rica. There you can find Jen writing custom poems on a typewriter at the weekly Friday night market. And everyday you can access the poetry pharmacy featuring poets from around the world.
Mentioned in this episode:
Join the mailing list to be the first to know when OPO submissions open ⬇️
🖋️ Read My Newsletter: Free Flow 🖋️
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By Maggie Devers“I dreamt I was in Paris” Jen Booton I dreamt I was in Paris scents of coffee and absinthe wafting as olfactory wind chimes typewriters snug on Boulevard Montparnasse tables peppered with burgeoning authors lost among their own generation but destined to be famous for centuries.
Drunk on wine, cigarettes and delusion sturdy as centenarian tree roots that their precious moment in time, after war, was all that mattered, which of course they were right a ripple in the energetic tapestry of life connecting them with me here, 100 years
Later on a wooden table snug against a Smith-Corona drunk on the belief that this sliver of presence means just as much as it did to them and that maybe it wasn't a dream after all but a memory as we find ourselves over and over again through the timeless echo of ink-drenched words.
Drunk on wine, cigarettes and delusion sturdy as centenarian tree roots that their precious moment in time, after war, was all that mattered, which of course they were right a ripple in the energetic tapestry of life connecting them with me here, 100 years
Later on a wooden table snug against a Smith-Corona drunk on the belief that this sliver of presence means just as much as it did to them and that maybe it wasn't a dream after all but a memory as we find ourselves over and over again through the timeless echo of ink-drenched words.
More from Jen Booton ↓
- @jenthepoeta on Instagram
- She runs Mística Holistica, a mystic shop and tea house in Avellanas, Costa Rica. There you can find Jen writing custom poems on a typewriter at the weekly Friday night market. And everyday you can access the poetry pharmacy featuring poets from around the world.
Mentioned in this episode:
Join the mailing list to be the first to know when OPO submissions open ⬇️
🖋️ Read My Newsletter: Free Flow 🖋️