BLOODY YR HYMEN + NAUGHTIES + CAMDEN TOWN ( from BABYLONDON ON FIRE )
Written by Henrik Aeshna on Thursday the 19th of January 2012
why not, ma
sweet child babylove my dousucre?
the flowers
are beautiful dripping clocks
let's run!
let's run
from this lie-papered prison & flop
in a poppy field!
relax on
the shore
& fall
asleep
let's burn
bridges drop off the map
put on
exotic dreams
&
dance
completely
pissed up & possessed across the
infinite
ballroom
of the
world
(& just in case anybody asks for us,
we're gone down to Mexico
to join the migration of the monarch
butterflies... )
NAUGHTIES
for Lucy
Finchet-Maddock
...
I write
all these with yr blood infused with mine
as BabyLondon burns
I
We'll enter
weekend freestores & cull tophats
alien pieces starry balaclavas
& scarves
Then we'll
kick down the gates of the night dressed as beat angels in black stockings
scofflaw children
cockney-cannibals
qalandars firebugs & far-off-eyed absinthe
lovers aborygen cyberpunks blowing the
didjeridoo-doo-doo of our boundless love-sweet-lust let's-get-lost & burn
all flags & terrorize
&
crash-crash-crash joyride innocent scooters parked in alleys & throw
furious taxis into gas stations to the sound of Carmina Burana La
Marseillaise or God Save the Queen, wow, cats of all breeds & pedigrees will
follow us along our parkour poètilique
through streets & pubs cities &
ages bodies & hearts
like lost
bullets
spitting
out into the air
terror
flaming la cucarachas
CAMDEN TOWN
so erotically the rain falls down
suddenly made into pieces
like the pearl collar necklace of some devastatingly beautiful Rain Goddess
CAMDEN TOWN IS BURNING
with all the monsters of my absurd & wandering imagination
an Indian spiralled mandala
a shocking yellow EP playing
as I smoke my last cigarette hallucinating the canal
& ignore for quite a while that I wear a damn crown of thorns