poem: James Dean and the Savages

now that he is gone

the dreams and the sex and the writing

are all pathetic.

she was going to change

the world with poetry; she had such



but he left the room in a red

jacket; she is listening to Marina

and The Diamonds.


In the end, she is the one to crash the car

and end in print:

another dead Jackie,

her leg pulled off and staining the leather.

He lays awake:

she cannot say if he is thinking of her

or thinking of nothing.


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