old makeup spilled on my floor
***** clothes strewn on my floor

You can hardly see the carpet for all the clothes carelessly being trodden on.

Blue holiday lights are strung around the mirror.

I am watching Andy Warhol eating a hamburger
I am watching Andy Warhol eating a hamburger
on a new, thousand dollar laptop, slick-as-a-whistle, paid with a magnetic swipe.

For the past six months,
I have had less than four hundred $
combined in checking and savings,
and that number dwindles by the day.

I have no groceries,
but I've got fistfuls of orange prescription bottles,
and I was handing pills out like treats and candy.

(but they are needed, much and every day)

Where did all these bills come from?
Money is paper, but it means things.
Suddenly, it costs money to breathe.

Eating? Oh pshaw, that costs money, time, and the store's six blocks away.
We can subside on government cheese, beans, and the fiery licks of whiskey.

I pout on my throne of ***** cotton, thinking
"I get what I ask for, when I ask, and it always comes--at a price!" I sigh.

It's always over a hundred dollars more than I could spare
and brings bad luck, moreso than a couple broken mirrors would,
smashed over a the front of your mother's blackest cat.

"Quick! Let's do designer drugs with the paltry change given by our parents, given as allowance!
I wouldn't feel like I wasn't nothing, nothing at all," I say, batting my eyelashes, "Wouldn't they feel proud of our feelings of entitlement to the greater things in life and consciously responsible adult-like decisions?"

I crack open my father's checking account with that swipe of a magnetic strip,
it makes me seem responsible when he sees I just use it for pills and foodstuff.

(I prove I love him, and he loves me in this way)

Now, together, we will buy strawberries with his money, until our lips are pink.
They must be four dollars, at the very least, then we eat like the bourgeoisie (!)

I kiss the cheeks of my reflection in the bathroom
"Como ca va, darling? Comme si comme sa. . ."
I lick my lips, put on red lipstick and then blot,
tousling my hair, tipsy, as I touch up my face by
licking the tips of eyeliner up like a cat's little tail,
the ends of eyes, coated with eyeliner as black as
my tightest velvet pants and dark, dark heart.

We go together. You and me.

Lying on the floor, holding hands, in vinyl bliss
listening to the crooning of sweet Francoise Hardy,
and the addictions of the near-dead soul of Lou Reed

You should move to a big city
and I'll come call, prepaid, with
a voice that is thick and ripped,
from expensive French cigarettes
chattering of sugar-white beaches
as I cross the seas all on a plane,
burning money all along the way
all the while drunk on red wine,
twirling my fingers around, with
bags under eyes, a little anemic

(I think it adds to the glamour)

We will go out to a dimly lit place
We will go out dancing then after

I will put on dab perfume under my ears and on my wrists,
I will wear black tights for pants, but first, do a little *******
and you will fasten the clasp on my silver necklace tonight,
while I smoke, before helping me put on my favorite fur

And we will go see Andy, at the factory
I hear he's doing something
with that Basquiat fellow (!)

I will go follow false luxuries, come with me.
I will gamble with you in Monte Carlo or Las Vegas,

just as long as you pay my rent at $695 per month,
and keep pretending,
until I die, or overdose, or something.

I waz hip-hop since I b in mi mamas womb  
Spittin’ sum rhyme, will give u dat tune  
Yo, he spit da raw  
No need 2 prove anymore
I’m scratchin’ ‘bout, I’m bummy in a downtown shelter  
No use complaining ‘bout wat life I’ve been dealt, nah  

Hit em hard, every generation gotta do wat ya do  
Cuttin’ up fresh is da word, new kid on da block, could b u  
It’s how u survive in da hood  
No layin’ ‘bout, stand up like a real man should  
Don’t want 2 sleep on no choo choo train, no more  
Then get off ya RRRs, do sum thing like neva b4  
 
From da Juice Crew 2 Mr Magic, down in Boogie Down Bronx Queensbridge is da place 2 b near, it all interlocks  
More MCs drank da water drippin’ down from around here  
Than any udder crib, in da hole ******* world, ya hear  
So trekkin’ from youth, 2 B.ing @ 1520 Sedgwick Avenue  
I’m now livin’ in fcukin’ Wonderland, if only Alice really knew

In a fleeting panic
my body aching
my head in manic
I was fitted for depression
by my fashion shrink
cosmic blue straightjacket
boots of shocking pink
Day-Glo eyelashes
and a faux stole of mink
I walked the streets of Soho
and climbed the Factory walls
a girl betwixt
a boy between
everybody’s darling
till morning came to town
in my corset of denial
I took cover in the rain
and sang naughty little ditties
seeping from the recesses of my brain
I tripped my way to Bellevue
where a thousand plastic junkies
awaited my return
I fell into their fancy
and we frolicked amidst our lies
and hopped aboard an east bound train
to a velvet paradise

In a few days, modernistas will flock to Palm Springs to ogle its healthy roster of mid-century gems.

There will be home tours, double-decker bus tours, fundraisers, art receptions and cocktail parties. At every turn, is an opportunity to embrace your inner modish self and dress the part.

Don’t worry, you won’t be alone. All the parties are rife with guests in fun retro apparel. Everything from caftans and A-line shift dresses to graphic prints and knee high boots.

“It's nostalgia for a bygone era and we dress up because it feels great when you are surrounded by stunning midcentury modern architecture and vintage cars. It makes me want to put on gloves and a pillbox hat and sip martinis - plus it makes for great photos,” said Lisa Vossler Smith, executive director of Modernism Week, who likes to dress the part as well. Modernism Week runs Feb. 16-26.

The mod-style which originated in London in the 1960s is all about sleek and simple silhouettes.

“Clean-tailored lines and lots of black and white define mod fashion for me,” Vossler Smith said.

Pegged ankle-length pants, colorful tights, Mary Jane heels and sweater twin sets also come to mind.

For inspiration, Vossler Smith turns to the likes of Twiggy, Edie Sedgwick and fashion designer Mary Quant, because of their iconic and forward-thinking mod style.

“But I also look to old movies and TV for inspiration. "James Bond," “Batman,” “Get Smart,” “Gidget,” and my favorite, “Breakfast at Tiffany's,” are great for inspiring new vintage looks from my daily wardrobe. Sometimes I even throwback to a little Rosalind Russell "Auntie Mame" or Grace Kelly influence - on a good hair day,” she said.

Her favorite vintage item is her 1960s leopard print, pointy-toe boots. “I wear them all the time,” she added.

Much like the classic, simple and timeless architecture of the homes and buildings that signify mid-century modern - mod fashion has had a lasting effect on popular culture and current design.

There are new, vintage inspired lines, such as the ones created by New York based Lisa Perry who led a discussion at last year’s Modernism Week on the mod looks that make up her collections.

Palm Springs’ own Trina Turk, who is known for her bold prints and vintage inspired designs , will present a “Trina Turk + Mr. Turk Fashion Show” poolside at the Modernism Week Show House on Feb. 21.

Palm Springs and the rest of the Coachella Valley is full of thrift shops and specialty boutiques teeming with outfits perfect for a mod party. You can go new – Turk’s flagship store is in Palm Springs – but it’s a lot of fun and rewarding to dig through thrift shop racks for that signature outfit.

“We really have great stores throughout the desert,” Vossler Smith said.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/****-formal-dresses