Too Many Old Movies In My Head

Bette Davis Said

All these middle-aged modern women with their dyke haircuts,
Where do they all come from? Where does this business lead?
They're normal—yes? Still intelligent, I admit. Not gay,
But they don't make me feel a thing, nor do they want me to.

The men who come to love them, I believe,
Must be sexless starving saints. Oh, look,
There’s Liz Taylor, sniffed by sweet Michael Jackson
Who doesn’t even have a prick. Does he? Perhaps
She thinks he’s Monty Clift come back at last. Perhaps he is.

A saint is always good to find, it’s said,
"But a good hard man is better in bed!"
That's what Bette Davis said, I'm told,
Though she, delightful aged jezebel, is dead
And can't deny such rumors or affirm.

It might have been Carole Lombard instead
(Who gave it up to Clark Gable for the joy of it)
Or jaunty Jean Harlow at a midnight haunt
Or marvelous Marlene Dietrich (rumors hint!)
Might have said it to gorgeous Greta Garbo in bed—
Now that would have been a goosey gander! Quack, quack!

It doesn’t matter much, for most of those faded
Screen-star sinners are now long dead
And the living mostly spent—
But isn't it odd how sad I feel and how unsaintly?

rcs.

6th draft: 07/15/05
©2000 Ronald C. Southern

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