Aug 2020
"C'EST PRESQU'AU BOUT DU MONDE..."
( IT WAS ALMOST TO THE END OF THE WORLD )
She believed that
deep deep inside her
the flame of a femme fatale
burned brightly.
Could imagine herself stepping out of
some classic Film Noir.
Cultivated herself
to look like Marie Windsor
opposite the dangerously gorgeous
John Garfield.
But her life it seemed had her
stepping into an Edward Hopper.
The isolation and the paint
still wet.
The lonely lady
glimpsed in an hotel window
from a passing train
autumnal rain.
Still she acted always as if
she was in her own movie
walking around her tiny flat
naked
except for red stilettos
red earrings...red lipstick.
Making up her own snappy lines
to some imaginary leading man.
"Are you decent?"
"Yes""
"But you're....you're naked!"
"You only asked if I was decent!"
The mirror laughed
catching the reflection of who
she could have been
given half the chance.
She never
stood a chance.
She threw a cigarette up in the air
caught it between her lips
her one and only
party trick.
Lit or unlit.
Searching for middle C
on a battered piano
her mind off key
abandoning it
the piano's yellow smile.
She watched the sunlight
carve a block of time
out of the dividing wall.
fading the wallpaper roses.
The bed that was always
empty...always unmade.
She danced to Weil's
Youkali Tango.
Put it on again...again.
Scratching an already scratched record.
The needle gathering fluff.
The porcelain milkmaid...dust.
She disliked the way sweat
gathered under her *******.
They were always a little too large.
Hated men staring so hard.
Ahhhh the faded romance
a sunset heart attack.
Couldn't have wrote
herself a better script.
Staggering in her dance
gasping that all too unsubstantial
air as if trying to
catch time
the presentpastfuture
falling out of her hand.
The wooden acorn
of the tattered blind
tapping against
the ***** window pane.
Neon going green.
Then red.
Now blue.
And then green again.
( IT WAS ALMOST TO THE END OF THE WORLD )
She believed that
deep deep inside her
the flame of a femme fatale
burned brightly.
Could imagine herself stepping out of
some classic Film Noir.
Cultivated herself
to look like Marie Windsor
opposite the dangerously gorgeous
John Garfield.
But her life it seemed had her
stepping into an Edward Hopper.
The isolation and the paint
still wet.
The lonely lady
glimpsed in an hotel window
from a passing train
autumnal rain.
Still she acted always as if
she was in her own movie
walking around her tiny flat
naked
except for red stilettos
red earrings...red lipstick.
Making up her own snappy lines
to some imaginary leading man.
"Are you decent?"
"Yes""
"But you're....you're naked!"
"You only asked if I was decent!"
The mirror laughed
catching the reflection of who
she could have been
given half the chance.
She never
stood a chance.
She threw a cigarette up in the air
caught it between her lips
her one and only
party trick.
Lit or unlit.
Searching for middle C
on a battered piano
her mind off key
abandoning it
the piano's yellow smile.
She watched the sunlight
carve a block of time
out of the dividing wall.
fading the wallpaper roses.
The bed that was always
empty...always unmade.
She danced to Weil's
Youkali Tango.
Put it on again...again.
Scratching an already scratched record.
The needle gathering fluff.
The porcelain milkmaid...dust.
She disliked the way sweat
gathered under her *******.
They were always a little too large.
Hated men staring so hard.
Ahhhh the faded romance
a sunset heart attack.
Couldn't have wrote
herself a better script.
Staggering in her dance
gasping that all too unsubstantial
air as if trying to
catch time
the presentpastfuture
falling out of her hand.
The wooden acorn
of the tattered blind
tapping against
the ***** window pane.
Neon going green.
Then red.
Now blue.
And then green again.
She did everything to be a Marie WIndsor lookalike...knew all her films even small(uncredited)roles as in The Beautiful Blonde from Bashful Bend! And she was so funny and her quips were quick as a whip.
Marie Windsor was even a gag writer for Jack Benny way back when!
She wrote under M.E. Windsor 'cos she was afraid he wouldn't accept a female gag writer. When he finally met her he thought my God she's gorgeous and got her a contract.
The one I always remember her in was was opposite John Garfield in Force of Evil playing seductress Edna Tucker.
She was the "It" girl for Film Noir...the femme fatale of 'em all..tall, voluptuous and leggy...she had to bend at the knees to walk with small Garfield!
Marie Windsor was even a gag writer for Jack Benny way back when!
She wrote under M.E. Windsor 'cos she was afraid he wouldn't accept a female gag writer. When he finally met her he thought my God she's gorgeous and got her a contract.
The one I always remember her in was was opposite John Garfield in Force of Evil playing seductress Edna Tucker.
She was the "It" girl for Film Noir...the femme fatale of 'em all..tall, voluptuous and leggy...she had to bend at the knees to walk with small Garfield!
