MY BELLY GROAN
I wandered, aimless as a child, happy as a
lark. Stretching my own image, like a balloon
at some sunlit party, I distorted what I was, or
was to be : or, if it was distorted, it was never
me. Anyway. Skip the matter Lady Jane.
-
Vivienne Westwood? Yeah, I knew her. All
that Saville Row stuff, and whatever it ever
meant, Malcolm McLaren, Sandra Rhodes,
Leigh Bowery, what the fuck! I went to the
Alternative Miss World thing, in 1972; the one
where Gerald Incandela showed as 'Miss Synthetic.'
What any of those fools back then were thinking,
I'll still and ever never know. All another time and
place, and a world without slots or meanings now.
-
Take the hammer down, blast me through with a
happy window. Oh little lamb, who made thee?
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