That'll be the(Corinne)Day

When I lived in London
I too, did the party thing:
smoked lots of fags, took lots of drugs
shagged untold blokes
(and yes, sometimes, cos I wanted the hugs)

When you’re young
you’re so heedless and free
No fear of damage;  ‘it won’t happen to me …’
Looking back now, with the wisdom of years,
I’d say to my young self:
forget the dramas and tears
Very little, you see, shall remain
of the heartbreak, and sorrows,
unendurable pain

Those decades  of hard living when I drank like a fish,
I reflect on them now with only one wish
(and each wish, we know, is born of a fear)
that, like Kate Moss, party chick without peer,
I too, was blessed with miraculous Dorian Gray-like grace
so that years of debauchery
would never show on my face!

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t-shirts from the inside

some resourceful soul, in LA, I think,

recycles cotton t-shirts worn by boys in the clink

all that masculine  sweat (plus, we imagine,  blood and tears)

renders  the fabric  softer than a kitten’s ears

reformed into delicate textured dresses

(after being thoroughly scrubbed of their  inevitable messes)

selling for more than a prison song in an eco  store

their origins add a sense of edge to couture