"There was my name up in lights. I said 'God, sombody's
made a mistake'. But there it was, in lights."
-Marilyn Monroe
Her white dress stands over street vents.
The vertical press of two ivory breasts
draws cleavage up from collar bone
down to Kennedy's valley,
or at least that was the rumor.
Brown Starflex paparazzi flash
shower red and blue across sidewalks,
and as they say, like a babe in the woods,
she stands tenderfoot, caught in the high-beams.
Torches of thunder send yards of white
linen to flicker like bright flame
against a pitch night
Whose millions of eyes
travel up those bombshell thighs
drive back down with her ensemble.