{"id":1444,"date":"2010-11-21T17:57:58","date_gmt":"2010-11-21T16:57:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lettresdurien.wordpress.com\/?p=1444"},"modified":"2010-11-21T17:57:58","modified_gmt":"2010-11-21T16:57:58","slug":"comme-aux-temps-des-indiens","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/blog\/2010\/11\/21\/comme-aux-temps-des-indiens\/","title":{"rendered":"Comme aux temps des indiens"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"padding-left:90px\">Il m\u2019a gliss\u00e9 des mains<br \/>\nquelques rires ravageurs<br \/>\net id\u00e9es de gamins<br \/>\nCe d\u00e9compte de p\u00e9tales<br \/>\nQu\u2019on faisait dans le fond de la cour<br \/>\nQuand on cavalait derri\u00e8re les indiens<br \/>\nQu\u2019on ne faisait pas encore l\u2019amour<br \/>\nUne effluve, un parfum<br \/>\nQui faisait que les heures<br \/>\nc\u2019\u00e9tait l\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9.<br \/>\nComme avant ce matin<br \/>\nO\u00f9 t\u2019as laiss\u00e9 ton coeur<br \/>\nsur un petit bout de papier.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Il m\u2019a gliss\u00e9 des mains quelques rires ravageurs et id\u00e9es de gamins Ce d\u00e9compte de p\u00e9tales Qu\u2019on faisait dans le fond de la cour Quand on cavalait derri\u00e8re les indiens Qu\u2019on ne faisait pas encore l\u2019amour Une effluve, un parfum Qui faisait que les heures c\u2019\u00e9tait l\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9. Comme avant ce matin O\u00f9 t\u2019as laiss\u00e9 ton [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Comme aux temps des indiens","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[22,4,17],"tags":[14,5],"class_list":["post-1444","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-brouillons","category-poesies","category-postit","tag-alice-non-plus","tag-vers-libres"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4SHRd-ni","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1444","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1444"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1444\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1444"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1444"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ericlaugier.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1444"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}