Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe

Mother made quite a fuss
Police probed, investigated us
But it was all fun, artistic fake
Making money for god’s sake

Maybe McLaren was my Manet
A cash from chaos punk cliché
My naked flesh filled the screen
Underage, declared obscene

I didn’t mind playing Victorine
Being part of his money machine
She was later the whore Olympia
And like me created mild hysteria

From a generation with no future
I drew strength from this venture
But now my Manet has moved on
Anarchic in his musical denouement

Would I change any of this?
Regret I hadn’t covered my tits?
Oh god no! Just look at that stare
I’m now a fucking millionaire.

bow_wow_wow_542_wide

(photo: Bow Wow Wow album cover 1981)

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/extravagant/

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s