Rosemary's Cerise Valise.

She left her bracelet on the table
next to the mirror beside the candle
and oh can it be - an old cinema receipt
These are the things he keeps in Rosemary's cerise valise

A dry fountain pen that can't write letters
the special soap to wash her cashmere sweaters
and oh it would seem - a list of books she'd like to read
These are the things he keeps in Rosemary's cerise valise

The comb kept a few strands of her hair
the key left on the table by the stairs
oh how can she be just a string of memories
These are the things he keeps in Rosemary's cerise valise.

maple syrup.

For those of you who might not know, it is maple syrup season in Canada. This past weekend I went to a sugarbush and walked around the mud, sampling syrup in small paper cups. The sky was very blue and seemed extra-high on account of all the tall trees.

I highly recommend maple syrup for any of the following remedies/procedures:

- sweeten your morning latte.
- pour over thick plain yogurt with fresh fruit
- drizzle on grapefruit
- gulp a tablespoon to quell a mid-afternoon sugar crash
- forgo the flu shot and get your immune-boosting zinc & manganese as naturally found in pure maple syrup
- add maple syrup and cinnamon to puréed cooked sweet potatoes
- combine maple syrup with orange juice and tamari (soy) sauce, and use as a marinade for baked tofu or salmon

I of course do not need to say anything in regards to pancakes, french toast or waffles. My younger brother, when he was little, used to pour maple syrup on his plate of sausages every Sunday morning. Brilliant.

The maple season lasts until the end of March.

Moriarty is coming, Moriarty is coming!

My friends from Paris in the brilliant band Moriarty are coming to play Canadiam Music Week.

Please come to their show - it is full of typewriters and vintage suitcases and double basses and glockenspiels and overall magic. You will love.

Myspace and The Story of Fou Du Roi.

I have uploaded some new, unreleased songs on my Myspace page, including a live taping of my solo performance of "A Little Sad" on the popular French radio show "Le Fou du Roi".

The nicest thing about that performance was the audience. I was surprised that hundreds of people show up in the middle of the day to hear the whole radio show, which generally features authors, actors, all kinds of artists and thinkers. Because they are a live audience, the rule is that they of course cannot be very boisterous and for the most part must be quiet, aside from appropriate applause.

It is a fairly unceremonious thing after a live radio performance like that - generally the show just carries on, as it did in this case. I was led to the back of the stage towards the exit door...but just before I left, I turned to the audience and silently waved goodbye to everyone with a big goofy smile on my face.

One of my favorite moments of all my time spent in Paris is when pretty much the entire audience smiled, and silently waved back.

www.myspace.com/lennijabour





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J'ai mis des nouveau chansons sur ma page de Myspace, avec un enregistrement live de « A Little Sad » sur le radio programme Le Fou du Roi.

La plus agréable de cette exécution était la publique. J'étonné que des les de gens qui arrivent a midi pour entendre le spectacle de radio entier, qui présente généralement des auteurs, les acteurs, tous types d'artistes et philosophes. Parce qu'ils sont une audience "live", la règle est qu'ils ne peuvent pas être très bruyant (bien sûr) et doit se taire pour la plupart, à part les applaudissements appropriés.

C'est un peu brusque après une exécution de radio comme ça, en effet - généralement le spectacle continue juste, comme il a fait dans ce cas. J'ai été mené au dos de l'étage vers la porte de sortie ... mais juste avant que j'ai parti, j'ai tourné à l'audience et ai ondulé adieu silencieusement à tous , avec un grand sourire dingue.

Mon souvenir favorite de tout mon temps passé a Paris est quand l'audience entière a souri, et a ondulé silencieusement de retour.

www.myspace.com/lennijabour

Kensington Market

If you visit Toronto, you will want to go to Kensington Market.

- Get caffeinated at iDeal Coffee (84 Nassau), or Louie's on the corner of Baldwin and Augusta. I call it Grumpy Louie's - but he makes magic coffee.

- Go shopping at Model Citizen (279 Augusta), the amazing clothing/accessories store for both women and men, owned/operated by my friends Julian and Georgia.

- Down a burrito at Big Fat Burrito (285 Augusta Ave). Get #2 spicy.

- Buy soy milk, sprouts and Ezekiel bread at Essence of Life Healthfood Store (50 Kensington Ave)

- Take out cash at the TD bank machine (kensington Ave at St. Andrew)

- Purchase dried burdock, lemon balm and black cohosh at Chinese Herbs on the corner of St. Andrew and Kensington Ave

- Pet/feed/rescue a stray market cat or kitten. (You can volunteer or even adopt from Kensington Market Stray Cat Rescue. 416-596-2331)

- Eat a square of mango cake from Patty King (187 Baldwin St). I cannot guarantee it, but the ladies behind the counter will most likely address you as "sweetie"

- Stock up on tortillas, black beans and chipotle peppers at Casa Acoreana (235 Augusta Ave)

And, click here to visit the Kensington Market website for more info and photos, etc. Since you will inevitably bump into someone you know (even if visiting Toronto for the first time, it seems to be the way), perhaps I will see you there.

11e

Where the cement met beauty,
a story flung itself out a window.
Furious and broken both,
There were shards of this and that - raw and fast -
blanketing the shock of is.

Awhile later, in a numbed café
important pieces got dropped.
Left to rot, then, on dusty floors;
no sweeping nor wiping nor shuffling away -
only a faded capture of once.

It was in this place:
the chairs, the stars -
where days turned to ever
(good-bye lovers),
a just was sought
but then never delivered.

And so it was thus,
That not became was.

New York

I wrote a song a long time ago called "New York". I was living in a small attic apartment in Brooklyn Heights where I looked after two cats, learned the definition of shabby chic, and discovered The Moosewood Cookbook.

I wrote this song the afternoon after the Macy's Day Parade.

You think it might have been a miracle
America is floating down 5th Avenue
she looks at you with snowflakes on her eyelashes
all you can do is shake your head in wonderment
and wonder who you were before you breathed the fumes
of autumn leaves discarded on the avenues of New York.

The stars are getting brighter over Brooklyn now
a hooker wishes on Orion anyhow
the windowed homes are orange and red with yellowed glow
and you wish you could stop from feeling so alone
you search for his brown eyes every time you turn around
and you make a wish on every penny on the ground in New York.