Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

It was the year
Marilyn Monroe

got herself murdered
and your girlfriend said

have you ever
fished in this pond?

And you said
sure a few times

but caught nothing
but a cold and stiff ass

and she stared
across the pond

and stretched out
her legs in front of her

and kicked off her shoes
and wiggled her toes

and she said
maybe you weren’t patient enough

and you liked the way
she wiggled her toes

and how the sunlight
caught them

and warmed them
and you said

I wonder if Marilyn
wiggled her toes like that?

And she said
not any more she don’t

and she clapped
her hands suddenly

and birds flew
from the tall trees in fright

and she sure as fuck
shook you up too all right

then turned
and laughed

and kissed you
on the cheek

and you thought
oh that this moment

would never end
this kiss

this sun
this moment here

alone together
but you knew

it wouldn’t last
it doesn’t ever.

great poem, love the conversational tone that's intriguing and marks time with it's references....

it was right after i got myself born ...

lives summed up in a moment . . . great stuff ...

Thank you, Saw & Mnaz. I was just leaving school in a few months after she died.

the air seems crossed by possibilities and at the same time there is a sense of fragility and fulness that only arises in special-felt moments, sweet poem dadio!!!!

Thank you, Arcadia.

What a gorgeous poem.

Isn't poetry wonderful? The art of musings, reminiscences, feelings woven into the fewest possible words to tell a story, where we're *there*, at one with the poet.

~A

Thank you, Anna.