Frequent flyer miles use can help us or abuse.
My son asked that we change and board another plane.
I told him, our passport, can't Havana airport,
said he'll use the kiosk, but my FF I trust,
counterintelligence needed--I’m facetious. (meant ticket counter)
Be that discourse of late, ill-present contemplate,
cards will fall where they may, I'll not gamble, I say,
payment via my card and FF disregard.
I’m Mz Mortenson, if you please.
I dispensed with the charade
when I went to my grave.
Life can be tricky
if you’re pretty.
My life was a role,
I couldn’t always control.
How unaware the dumb bombshell seemed.
Still, I was labeled the obscene Norma Jeane.
in reel life’s small doses,
the role was emotionally corrosive,
merely etching away my fragile identity.
In real life it proved erotically explosive
destroying my privacy, serenity, and sanity.
I thrilled in some 29 films, I took a few pills,
was a plaything for mobsters and tabloid mills.
When I started a fling with the president,
did I have any idea what I was up against?
Some free advice - beware of counterintelligence.
Homicide, suicide - what does it matter
- which one is sadder?
I knew I’d always be there for you, sensuously beckoning,
at 24 frames per second, like an eternal flame - flickering.
.
.
Of course, Norma Jeane Mortenson’s stage name was Marylin Monroe
Written for the 'Lost Poetry from History Challenge' contest.
Where you write a poem in the voice of an historical figure.
16:00.06-17
~~~
Do you follow me...
I've scattered thought
across countless stages of unveiled catwalk
Graced anthologies of rhyme
Watched you
watch me
indulge in second guess
Still ...
reflection
seldom circulates
obscured from Elementary
Fact is... words refrain
as thoughts pile higher
Each ode grows more incent
from straining to dip the quill
Leaning
way beyond comfort
to soak in
crisper thought
My only regret ...
a shortage of counterintelligence
~~~
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