for James Dean
Fast car. Fast car.
Liz in his thoughts;
the reek of his last
same-sexed lover
still on his sheets.
Fast car.
How fast can it go?
Rev up the motor.
Let out the throttle.
Full speed around
that next curve.
If he flies at the speed
of light, will he disappear
into the moon's belly,
he wonders?
He stubs out his last cig,
chugs down more Daniels.
The ghosts still won't slip off
his shoulder blades.
He's two people, and even
this fast, loud
mouthed
little sports car
can't make the one
he hates go away.
Pris Campbell
©2005
Published in Remark Journal, 2006
8 comments:
A wild one..
I didn't know much about
James Dean. Was he conflicted
with another self?
From what I knew at the time, he struggled with the demon, depression, and had conflicted feelings about his homosexuality. I had a close friend much like that who couldn't come out of the closet and had depressive swings who ultimately killed himself,
Pris--Great poem. I love the way your poetry moves. What a trip taking a ride in James Dean's mind for a moment...tough stuff to deal with.
Ah...interesting. I knew someone who
had trouble, depression and alcohol,
even after coming out. He went to a
simple job, a port city, AA, and a
Buddhist temple, last I knew. Was stable.
He thought working outdoors in the parks
dept. made a big difference.
For someone like James Dean, you wonder
whether there was ever any time to think,
with all the attention.
Hi Kerry, thanks. And yes, James Dean was a complex person.
Jim, being in the spotlight couldn't have been easy for him, I agree. I wonder with my friend if he'd gotten out of the high pressure job he was in and taken a simpler route he would've made it, too.
Terrific poem, Pris, and utterly believable. (Sadly.)
Yes, very sad ...... So young and such a future
Thank you both...and yes, what a waste that he died so young.
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