You could have been a contender
on each & every take

The last time we met
you were halfway through a bender
down in Toluca Lake

Your eyes were bright & flashing
Your voice was soft & hollow
Stained-glass light caressed your face
Like the ghost of Frida Kahlo

Jewel-encrusted turtles race
across the velvet red

scorched beneath
the baleful gaze
of a sequined
sea-horse head

I thought I saw your name in lights
etched against the dawn

and so the moving finger writes
& having writ
moves on

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