mardi 29 décembre 2009



Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
you can hear the boats go by
you can spend the night beside her
and you know she's half crazy
but that's why you want to be there
and she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China
and just when you want to tell her, that you have no love to give her
she gets you on her wavelengh
and she lets the river answer
that you've always been her lover

and you want to travel with her
and you want to travel blind
and you know that she will trust you
for you've touched her perfect body with your mind

and Jesus was a sailor, when he walked upon the water
and he spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower
and when he knew for certain only drowning men could see him
he said all men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them
but he himself was broken
long before the sky would open
forsaken, almost human
he sank beneath your wisdom, like a stone

and you want to travel with him
and you want to travel blind
and you think maybe you'll trust him
for he's touched your perfect body with his mind

now Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river
she's wearing rags and feathers from salvation army counters
and the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbour
and she shows you where to look, among the garbage and the flowers
there are heroes in the seaweed,
there are children in the morning
they are leaning out for love
they will lean that way forever
while Suzanne holds the mirror

and you want to travel with her
and you want to travel blind
and you know that you can trust her
for she's touched your perfect body with her mind

dimanche 27 décembre 2009

Monsieur Sept-Ans se soucie de sa maman

Un livre de recettes de mises en bouche entre les mains, je propose à Monsieur Sept-Ans de choisir, en feuilletant un peu, laquelle il voudrait que je lui cuisine.
Il fixe son choix sur les Bonbons croustillants à la viande hachée (des petits cigares à la viande en pâte Phyllo).
En jetant un oeil sur les ingrédients, il me dit:

- Oh! Non maman tu peux pas faire ça, y a un oignon dedans!

- Oui et alors?

- Mais tu vas pleurer!