Memoir of a New Orleans Stripper

  I bloodied my hands while I scrubbed Jackson Square. Was stripped of my skin in Metairie somewhere. Turned in my liver to a guy with a glass Traded my cha-cha for one with no class.   Was walking St. Charles, taking the air When the streetcar swung by and stripped off my hair. My guts went to church and somehow gotContinue reading “Memoir of a New Orleans Stripper”

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