1994 Jackie
O you died so suddenly
we'll never know
what sealed your lips,
if it was fear, or pride
or just indifference.
Will you tell us now
ex post facto, posthumous express
who deed the dirty did
and why,
as if we didn't know?
I've always fancied you
especially these past few years,
having seen you in the movies
in pink and pillbox, wisp of hair
waved deftly aside by a gloved hand.
Come to my slum, we'll speak French,
and you will tell me what it's like
to know and not to say,
to have no language
or love outside the family
or class, only conviction?
But are you, sweet heart,
so convinced, even now,
that silence and the gilded cage
are beautiful? Are you,
after all, one of us?