the girls were young and worked the streets but often couldn’t score, they ended up in my hotel room 3 or 4 of them sucking at the wine, hair in face, runs in stockings, cursing, telling stories… somehow those were peaceful nights but really they reminded me of long ago when I was a boy watching my grand- mother’s canaries make droppings into their seed and into their water and the canaries were beautiful and chattered but never sang. de fankes en de fûgels de fankes wienen jong en tippelen op ’e strjitte gauris hienen se gjin klanten, einigen dan … Lês fierder →