how can i forget

How can I forget

August eight nineteen sixty two was the day Marilyn died,
overdose they said but why was her lovely face so blue?
Once she wore a green jumper a chilly February day, aware
of the impression she had on men, still she wanted to be taken
seriously. Alas, she was not, men could not see that the object
of their desire had brains too. Her talent was disregarded they
tried to keep her in a cocoon of a child/ woman, the more
she kicked and screamed the more men of power found her
desirable a woman to be conquered. Despair, she couldn’t
win, she had to escape, but how? A blue face on the slap
in the morgue. They said Marilyn had tried to ring someone.
What can I say I loved her, she was an artist. Some day a new
generation will see her as a great actress who had laughter in
her heart and sexuality based on true love, and I whispered:
“Darling Marilyn you’re free.” Ok, this is all very well, but
today it is the Eve. In my heart it is always August eight and
I hate turkey, funny hats, drunken uncles, aunts and children.