Report from Body Parts

My head said one thing. My heart another. Read Trudie Shannon's My head is a chamber of secrets too. Dana sang Go Away George Bush.... the monnnnnnnnnnsterrrrrrr! and Take my body/I don't want these fallen tears/I'm just a shadow... Gèno spoke of un corps...
Dans les cas graves, les cas désespérés, tout bascule, on éclate, on se démantibule
Un bras là, un autre ailleurs, les jambes qui font le grand écart
ne parlons pas du cœur, traversé de part en part

Susannah gave notice to ''whoever has absconded with my feet, you are urgently requested to return them.'' Edward wore his name like a hat, a gift from folks that he never thanked them for. He spoke wise words from which his body parts. I've lost my notes on what Erika with a k spoke but it was good. Erica with a c was running up to her human heart. She doesn't want her love to be a promise so easy, so easy to tear down the middle. Leemore took lessons in painting with George Serat. For he is a boy and he wishes very much to be strong. How to sign your name and make it grow up and out fo the grass. The sky is listening. Xander spoke of desire, between 2 odd ends, Columbus and Broadway, like water evaporating. Scott read e.e.cummings. Colin says he doesn't want to go to the doctor to be told ''You sir, are a walking genetic disorder.'' - Who wants to hear that?! Elena's grandma knows we must all take our licks. Ellen sang a Darn you! song, from a town you couldn't spell. All you fancy people, you don't phase me. Told of a Tall ex-boyfriend. Sally asked Is it for me to muse over? Your eyes and the secrets they unfold. Alice, she sleeps with her legs apart, curves her arms around the air. Jaco had le cerveau inert. Ask the penguin. Rob - Life's a riot in Sweden. Cut in blue, his sky is righteous. Like a piecrust over the rim of the pan. He's mellow as a cello. Pauline sang a Mieuxsec song to her own music. Que deviens tes doigts? Que devien ton coeur? Leemore came back with Jitterbug Boy. Saskia found a non-ending conversation, a manipulation of the brain. And Colin took a train to Barnsley.

Report from 5th Jan (Clothes/les vêtements)

Erwan's next door neighbours think he's dead. What with the ten milk bottles standing outside his door. He brought us Summer with Monica by Roger McGough. Sally advised wearing underwear under your dress, in extracts from her just finished book! Giéno found it all banal mais fatal... He mused about cannell, vanille, before concluding que c'était bien d'avoir des bobos. Thomas took notes from the mental hospital, counting them in and out, then burst into a rainbow song. Leemore sang Ray Lamontagne's Jolene and Ode to Divorce by Spektor & did her own poems including Clémence by candlelight. Eric went flirting without any risk of rejection in the year 2018, thanks to the miracle technology of BLOOB. For Pearlie, love is sartorial, something you wear, tailored. She shook off past lovers like changing clothes. Pauline sang Brassens' fleurs et feuilles... dans l'eau de la clair fontaine. Becky was direct - ''Bring him to me, baby, my sunshine.'' Jaco chased le plus beau cul du monde. Corty & Sven took route 66 by way of Germany! Dominic preached from Ecclesiastes. Betty sung a Spanish song and went out box drumming! Seb & Rafaele went acoustic with Roxanne and BABY YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE BABY YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LOVE SOMEBODY TO LOVE SOMEBODY THE WAY I LOVE YOU... I did some stuff about something or someone or other. ;-)

Thanks to Leemore who took the notes this report is based on.

Jen K Dick writes:
I wanted to let you know that when I was coming to Spoken Word regularly for awhile, it opened me up to writing about Paris again, and so recently I sent off one of the pieces that I not only wrote after hearing Spoken Worders read about their lives here thus inciting me to reapproach my own and Paris in some odd way, but also a piece that I first read in an earlier version at Spoken Word. And it came out in the Hitotoki Paris project, online, with my crazy pic of woman in gas mask from a vitrine near Le Next, at:
Her own Ivy Writers poetry nights are at Le Next bar, for more info see her amazing listing of literary events in Paris at

Le Crabe, écrit par Thérèse et dit le 15 décembre


J’avais 25 ans, ou peut être 26.
Je ne portais pas encore de casquette.
C’était le printemps, je m’ennuyais.
Je suis allé au marché, rue des Moines, dans le 17ème, métro Brochant.
A l’étalage d’un poissonnier, j’ai vu un énorme crabe, un tourteau, et il me regardait de ses
yeux tristes.
Je l’ai acheté.
Je l’ai déposé sur le siège avant de ma voiture.
Je l’ai emballé de chiffons humides au niveau des pinces, pour qu’il ne bouge pas.
Et puis, nous sommes partis en direction de Deauville.
Pendant le trajet, je lui ai mis un air de blues.
Il faisait beau.
En arrivant à Deauville, où je comptais le relâcher dans la mer, j’ai vu tous ces magasins de
crabes et de coquillages et j’ai pensé que si je le relâchais là, un de ces marchands allait s’en
emparer. Mon plan allait échouer et ma B.A. tomber à l’eau, donc j’ai continué à rouler vers
Là, discrètement, je l’ai remis dans la mer et il est parti vers son destin de crabe.
Je n’ai jamais su ce qui lui était arrivé ensuite.
Quand je repense à lui, dans ma tête, je l’appelle Lulu.
Ce jour là, ma vie a eu un sens, j’ai fait quelque chose d’utile, j’ai relâché un crabe.
Quand j’y pense, ça me fait du bien.

And another by her - La Nuit


La nuit tous mes chats sont noirs
Ils me miaulent dans la tête
Ils ont des yeux d’élèves
Qui me demandent tous à la fois
S’il faut sauter une ligne
Et si ça compte pour le premier trimestre

La nuit mes enfants sont encore blonds
Ils rient dans ma tête
Et je pleure le temps passé

La nuit mes parents sont jeunes
Ils reposent dans ma tête
Avec de la Lorraine, de l’enfance et du soleil

Je me lève la nuit
Je dévisse ma tête
Et j’en fait tout un plat
Pour mes repas de la semaine

La nuit, le monde est sombre
C’est la poubelle du jour

La nuit est un méchant royaume
Peuplé d’idées mauvaises

La nuit, je l’aime quand je la fête
Et surtout quand je la dors

Thérèse Will
12 12 2008