Bowie’s Trousers


Bowie’s Trousers

Nobody ever had legs that shone like that Ossie Clark gold snakeskin
Get up like a starman, a ranch hand, a dingo with hip hop eyes
One finger on a ukelele, one  foot on a wah wah, he’s a one man bandage
Let’s use the modern age and make it decodogs and ladida King’s Road
Violet snowstorm in Biba’s revolving doors, ladies with blue lipstick
Sloping like adders through the Rainbow Room.

See thru blouses in Kurt Weill elevators and Aston Martin cars
Everybody plays an aristocrat,  girlboy boygirl mixup cut up
In dayglo Leichner panstik , revolving lime twist candy cocktail bars
He’s Thin, he’s Slick. he’s Navyblue, with drawstring Cuban heels
He knows you love to stare at meteors and William Burroughs’ eyes
London slides on inbred incubi lossy MP3’s
Where’s his Seventies  Way In Suffragette City vinyl thighs?




About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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