13^th June 1937

Today I spoke to the Parisian Times.
I was born from a cawcawbadoop egg,
before Paris I only bathed with a bassy,
my kin used trumpalump trees for light,
we have no need for clocks or kings.
My hips and bananas are glittering,
admirers are overfeeding the tip jar,
there will be roses without thorns waiting,
my admirers will want to know their fate,
Shall I use the roses in a sunrise blood ritual,
or should I eat them, or the roses?

3^rd February 1920

I never had the patience for marbles,
loopdeloop double-dutch was a riot,
no winners only girls slapping rhythm,
Lewis would chant with his loud baritone,
but between him and Ms Alice’s hot cakes
we got by fine, even had a record player,
this is how I learned to swing and flap
from jungle vines to regular pay checks.

14^th June 1937

I was gifted a leopard with its ears open,
frozen in mid-roar laying across the parquet,
no one knows its origins or how it prays,
it’s paw is unexpectedly soft and warm,
my maid suggested paradise plants for its habitat,
somehow this seemed cruel to me,
it deserved to lie next to the chaise lounge,
an unmistakable comedy in well-bred Paris.