this my city

Hot Child In The City

an ode to Harry in NYC, the summer of 2013

Danger in the shape of something wild

Stranger dressed in black she’s a hungry child.

No one knows who she is or what her name is.

I don’t know where she came from or what her game is.

Hot child in the city

Hot child in the city

Runnin’ wild and lookin’ pretty

Yeah,
Hot child in the city

Village witch wallows in the sun.
- Would roll in the mud and dance, if not for her reputation. She settles for soft chanting.
Village witch watches her garden.
- The fields around her house are filled with yellow flowers. she sings to help them grow.
Village witch waits for her daughter to come home.
- She left for the city years ago. Said she was going to grow, be more than a mere village witch.
Village witch wills herself to smile.
- The sun is bright and warm. The flowers are lively and lovely. Her daughter is growing and singing some other place alive.
— 

Wallow, smile, yellow - suggested by @minipiglover - (e.r)

Send me three words and I’ll write a poem with them it might take me a while though

So today, slightly hungover and a bit of a mess, I shouted, on camera, at a BBC interviewer/ presenter “I just really love Berena ok?! I ship them very, very hard!” At the time, I was also sat in front of a wall full of notes, the biggest of which reads “MARINA ABRAMOVIC IS DEAD….starring Jemma Redgrave”

And then I had to drive to a different city to put up a shed.

It’s been a funny kind of day!