Montpellier Pt.1
Montpellier Pt.1 Merry French revellers, Spanish bongo drummers p/assing the windows and such clacking thunder of snores: in Montpellier I sleep in an ancient pilgrimage halt for a night but most of the noises kept me alive in that dark. Even at six this morning people verily singing and shouting as they travel back to where-ever they live. But so inconsiderate at dawn to call so vigorously. The young do not know what happens around them; just between their ears and legs. I was never a carosering choruser. Oh snores of fin. The destraction to destruct all notions of sleep on this Sunday morning. I don't have to quit this donativo at all until ten. Back to struggle with sleep a while, I feel, now the partiers have vanished and the snorer will awake soon. I retired again but the death rattle of magpies kept this away. Eventually I turned over and all the beds were vacant and the sky shone through my unshuttered windows. Rise and attend to petit dejourner somewhere. I hung out for ...