just call me google god.
Lawyers on the Left Bank
So this is me at thirty-two, the strange dream seemed to say:
the lawyers order coffee in a louche Left Bank cafe
and read their menus carefully, and sit extremely still
while all around them lips kiss, fistfights rage, and glasses spill.
What they are doing in this rowdy tavern is not clear.
It's obvious they are not prudes, for after all they're here.
But in this topsy-turvy room where tables serve as...