I felt like the foolish American
My translator book in hand
The streets are charming in Paris
A Britain I hunger for lamb
I saw a bright colored Bistro
Umbrellas over white tables
people eating and laughing
probably telling rescae French tales
i cannot speak much French
My little cheat did not come with me
She had other things to do
Like doing other professors or two
So, I sat down quietly and waited
A waiter came up to me
All I could say was, La moule en folie
He blinked and smiled and beckoned
me to follow. We went into a narrow alley
then up winding stairs. He knocked.
A woman’s husky voice said, “come in.”
She was lying on a bed fully naked
and pink as a salmon. The waiter
held out his hand. “Monsieur,la moule en folie.”
Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 4:27 PM UTC
I felt like the foolish American
My translator book in hand
The streets are charming in Paris
A Britain I hunger for lamb
I saw a bright colored Bistro
Umbrellas over white tables
people eating and laughing
probably telling rescae French tales
i cannot speak much French
My little cheat did not come with me
She had other things to do
Like doing other professors or two
So, I sat down quietly and waited
A waiter came up to me
All I could say was, La moule en folie
He blinked and smiled and beckoned
me to follow. We went into a narrow alley
then up winding stairs. He knocked.
A woman’s husky voice said, “come in.”
She was lying on a bed fully naked
and pink as a salmon. The waiter
held out his hand. “Monsieur,la moule en folie.”
kmcoly22-2009