Sunday, March 04, 2007

Poem - She's Dead

They know the contents of her stomach
Speculate on her state of mind
The father of her child
As if her death is the last piece of news
On the last day of life on Earth
They interview old friends, ex-friends, bartenders and cab drivers,
Attorneys, photographers, manicurists, and hypnotists;
Her image clogs the Tube night after night
Platinum hair and ruby lips
Blowing kisses for the cameras
Sad and tragic and dead
Her body cold, cold, cold

Why can’t they leave her alone?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That sums it up in a NUT shell.
Have they ever left Elvis,Marilyn or JFK alone?
By the way they were all seen chowing down tri tip in Santa Maria and talking about Anna Nicole.