French ports & Catalan towns

French ports and Catalan towns were visited by Joanna.
French towns and Catalan ports; and the industrial revolution in Asturias.

Using of old Mercator maps, and calibers; Joanna visited.

In the country, along the different kilometers, milk cows she saw, and the tractors on green seas.

So in Bretagne, so in Metz; so in Brest.
So in Pau, so in Salou, so in Olot.
So in Palafrugell.

...And the Earth just heard the Earth and its emissions.


In a time without time and with space
In a space without space and with time

Joanna visited]


(Did you realize that I was talking about a timeless time?)

Joanna, Joanna March from Barcelona, the artistic.

I shall keep on searching, she said.



I said.




In cartographic mundonuevos, the springtime was tepid May for the merchant ships anchored on domesticated seas, our Atlanto-Mediterranean domesticity.

Bearded fishermen in pullover did greet her at her crusade, apostle-faced men of these seas of Jesus: la Europa cristiana.

And as they imbibed their masculine pain in bottles of alcohol, bottles of storm; the tempest smiled, and disappeared like a vampire surrounded of Sun.

Because the chronometer said it was Limoges.






French ports and Catalan hamlets Joanna walked
Like in a sentimental journey, like the journey of Sterne

How is this? Could you understand if someone just allows herself to go?

Everytime I heard that voice, muzzled of reveries like the manganese of the days
there was a mist settled over the Channel.


French ports and Catalan towns were visited by Joanna
In a lifetime
Or is maybe one lifetime all the lifetimes?

Her words were confusing.
Echoing all along the Basque Pyrenees: the Pirinioak.


The afternoon was a gaseous state, and the world kept on turning on its silent axis.
































For me, it was just like a metallic box of pencils from 1974; used already, with its landscape picture depicting some snowy slopes of Aragon or.

Or French towns, Catalan ports.

Catalan ports.


Another being was I when I saw it
Another life was I
Another time, without space
Another space, without time.



When -like a Raquel Welch on motoneta- Joanna visited.
Those Catalan towns.
Those French ports.