by Marilyn Monroe in 1955
So-o-o-o-o many lights in the darkness
making skeletons of buildings
and life in the streets.
And the moon so full and dark.
What was it I thought about yesterday
in the streets?
It seems so far away –
It’s good they told me what the moon was
when I was a child
for I could not understand it now.
Noises of impatience from cab drivers,
always driving – who must drive –
hot, dusty, icy streets so they can eat,
and perhaps save for a vacation
in which they can drive their wives
all the way across the country
to see her relations.
Then the river – the part made of Pepsi Cola –
the park – thank God for the park.
Yet, I am not looking at these things.
I’m looking for my lover.
That silent river which stirs and swells itself
with whatever passes over it –
wind, rain, great ships.
I love the river –
never unmoved by anything.
Sad, sweet trees -
I wish for you - rest
but you must be wakeful.
You must suffer
when your covering of dark golden –
even dead – leaves leave you strong and naked.
You must be –
alive – when looking dead.
bent with wind
and bear the pain and joy
of newness on your limbs.
It’s quiet now.
And the silence is alone
except for the thunderous rumbling
of things unknown,
distant drums very present
but for the sharp sounds of piercing screams
and the whispers of things suddenly hushed
to moans beyond sadness – terror beyond fear.
The cry of things dim and too young to be known yet.
The sobs of life itself.
Loneliness – be still.