trish , 24, Femme, États-UnisDernière visite : juin 2011

40393 écoutes depuis le 28 jan. 2006

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Death Cab for CutieTalking Bird 28 août 2011
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Rokia TraoréKolokani 16 août 2011
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À propos de moi

My mother was a Chinese trapeze artist in pre-war Paris, smuggling bombs for the underground. And she met my father at a fete in Aix-en-Provence. He was disguised as a Russian cadet in the employ of the Axis. And there in the half-light of the provincial midnight to a lone concertina they drank in cantinas and toasted to Edith Piaf and the fall of the Reich.

My sister was born in a hovel in Burgundy and left for the cattle, but later was found by a communist who'd deserted his ranks to follow his dream to start up a punk rock band in South Carolina. I get letters sometimes. They bought a plantation. She weeds the tobacco, he offends the nation. And they write, "Don't be a stranger, y'hear? Sincerely, your sister”.

So my parents had me, to the disgust of the prostitutes, on a bed in a brothel. Surprisingly raised with tender care 'til the money got tight and they bet me away to a blind brigadier in a game of high stakes canasta. But he made me a sailor on his brigadier ship fleet. I know every yardarm from main mast to jib sheet. But sometimes I long to be landlocked and to work in a bakery.

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