James Dean
Orbits of Saturn fade like sate persiflage
Nothing there beyond the décor of rouge
No one lives in fame
Everyone shines
Words are vice
Her suicide note was perfect
They ramble like bloated poets
Love and pride in rhyme
I am in love with your money
Your fakeness
Your phony love sonnets
Your boring Helen Steiner Rice verse
I am the antithesis
We are made for one another
Cain Slew Abel
I write east of Eden
James Dean on a swing
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Added by Poetry Lover
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