30 Poems in 30 Days - Thirteen: Famous Last Words

The idea for this prose poem is pairing fictional and creative nonfiction vignettes with famous last words.

Famous Last Words
Danna

My fortieth birthday I decided to leave my husband. I have made that same decision every year since. Lying to yourself is a kind of dying. Am I dying or is this my birthday? Lady Nancy Astor. As a child, I stood in the crook of an oak tree and imagined it was a ship, and I the serious and grim captain steering it to far off lands. Oh, you young people act like old men. You have no fun. Josephine Baker. I was twenty-four and living in a squalid apartments with my first husband, when I realized I would never be a great artist. I gathered all my self-portraits and threw them in the dumpster. Later that day, after returning from work, I found them lined up on the parking terrace. Our resident dumpster diver sat beside them. He gave me a thumbs up. I went in the apartment, returned with a knife and shredded them, threw them back into the dumpster, got in my car and drove away. I was lucky a policeman didn't pull me over for speeding. I would have had a hard time explaining the butcher knife. I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have. Leonardo da Vinci. My first husband used to tell me in great detail the ways in which he could kill me. He made an attempt. Turns out he was all talk. I have not told half of what I saw. Marco Polo. It's surprising just how frail and temporal this life is and how quickly the body cools when the spirit takes flight. Codeine . . . bourbon. Tallulah Bankhead. I'm no good at endings. I don't know how to leave. I don't know how to say goodbye. I've thought of leaving a note, perhaps calling from a pay phone, but there aren't any pay phones left in town. Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something. Pancho Villa. My first husband used to cry out in his sleep like a wounded animal. Strange thing is, so does my second husband. Perhaps the reason I married both men was that I was attracted to their pain. Josephine...Napoleon Bonaparte, French Emperor. Living is easy once you realize that all you need is something to feel enthusiastic about. I feel here that this time they have succeeded. Leon Trotsky, Russian revolutionary. I'm a Pisces, the last sign of the zodiac. According to astrology, this is my last incarnation on earth. I really thought for my last life I'd be wiser, less fraught. I thought it would be less of a struggle. I hope the exit is joyful and hope never to return. Frida Kahlo, artist . The seventh month of my marriage to my second husband, I drank a bottle of wine every single night. I was too stubborn to go to a therapist and admit I needed prozac, or a divorce. I got tired of drinking alone. Now I just eat. I should never have switched from Scotch to Martinis. Humphrey Bogart, actor. An enemy is the only mirror you'll ever need. Now, now, my good man, this is no time for making enemies. Voltaire, writer I got the news that my mother was dying, that she'd probably be dead before I made it to the hospital, I put a Maria Callas CD in the car's CD player and sang along to O mio babbino caro which in Italian is "Oh my dear papa". It was the only prayer I knew to ask. Damn it . . . Don't you dare ask God to help me. Joan Crawford, actress. I grew up being taught that only the true believers will inherit the highest kingdom of god, and then become gods themselves, and populate thier own planets. You just can't make this stuff up. Woe is me. Me thinks I'm turning into a god. Vespasian, Roman Emperor. Most mornings I pull into the parking lot where I work and wonder how I got there. I don't remember anything of the drive at all. Marriage is like that. You say "I do" and wake up ten years later asking yourself "how did I get here?" My God. What's happened? Diana (Spencer), Princess of Wales. One of my earliest dreams is of being on a grand stage and Queen Elizabeth II standing and bowing to me from her royal box. My imaginary friend was destined to be a queen in her native African homeland, until she was abducted and taken to the court of Imonhotep III. I dreamed I was a Frisian queen from the tenth century when I was pregnant with my daughter, but it didn't turn out for her so well either. I think I believed I was a queen well into my thirties. You could chalk it up to delusions of granduer, but I think it's because I have a soul of a queen and the life of a peasant. All my possessions for a moment of time. Elizabeth I, Queen of England. Language can possess you. Does nobody understand? James Joyce. My father taught me to curse like the sailor he once was. I used to swear under my breath until I was in my early thirties. Now I fling expletives with pleasure, but only around people I really like. Most people I know have never heard me swear,and have a totally wrong idea of who I really am. You sons of bitches. Give my love to Mother. Francis "Two Gun" Crowley. The world is mine. The wind blows for me. The sky rains for me. The sun rises and sets for me. The soil is for me. All of the world is for me. I can never repay the debt for all I've been granted. Crito, I owe a cock to Asclepius. Will you remember to pay the debt? Socrates. The last of the day's white light lingers and then is gone so suddenly, it appears there never was any reality other than the enveloping blackness. Get these fucking nuns away from me. Norman Douglas . In the end all of us cling to our superstitions. Death gives each of us an ending of our creation. All is lost! Monks, Monks, Monks! So, now all is gone - Empire, Body, and Soul!. Henry VIII. I like to believe I'm a reflective person. Truth be told, I run blindly to my own destruction. Every therapist I've ever seen has told me this very thing. What is the answer? [no response] In that case, what is the question? Gertrude Stein . hole... river... oak... deadly.... children... desert... Moose . . . Indian . . . Henry David Thoreau. When my daughter was very young, we'd take a crust of bread and sit out on the porch and wait for the evening's waning light, and the arrival of bats. We'd rip pieces from the crust and throw them skywards and watch the bat's deft flight as they swooped in an caught them in thier horrible feet. Put out the light. Theodore Roosevelt, US President. It is the silence which speaks the loudest. Go on, get out - last words are for fools who haven't said enough. Karl Marx, revolutionary.

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