Chicano Poet

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

The Three Lives Of The Third Person

Henry floated above himself
and looked at his body,
hell, he thought,

that ain’t me,
that’s Marilyn Monroe.
I knew

those couldn’t be my hips.
I knew those
couldn’t be my breasts.

Just then Marilyn
woke up
and walked into the bathroom.

Henry felt
like a peepingtom
until he woke up Mr. Bones.

Damn it,
Henry said aloud
when he

finally realized
that it was Mr. Bones
dreaming naked Marilyn Monroes.


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