Saturday, February 19, 2011

Clara Bow (1930)





Clara Bow  (1930)

The hunger never eases.
Nipples worked erect,
she cannot sleep.
Gilbert Roland and Gary Cooper
are no more than a gleam
of an ocean under stars.
The peachy satin sheet is cold.
The red ceramic tissue box
beside her bed is empty.
Here at the beach house,
legs widened, she listens
to the leaky kitchen faucet,
waits for Rex Bell to phone her back,
but he's in Tahoe with Will Rogers
making another Western.
She tries to sing Bad Companions,
but her voice is heavy like river stones
in the pocket of a fringed leather coat.
The mirror trembles as she
holds her lonesome breasts.


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