Day: June 8, 2022

No one knows why she was known
But known she surely was;
No reason for her famous name,
She’s famous just because.

A Playmate once but long ago
And thousands like her were;
But no one knows but one or two
The rest are just a blur.

Without a talent she was graced,
And ditzy as they come;
And just as bright as light bulbs are
When burned out they become.

Drunk or stoned or maybe both
She’d stand before a crowd,
And utter incoherently
‘Til folks would laugh out loud.

Like Emmet Kelly, paint her face
And she’d become a clown;
Theatrically she’d wave and wear 
Some navel plunging gown.

At 26 she married one
Who’d just turned 89;
14 months and he was dead,
Financially she’s fine.

Cameras on her everywhere
And every move she’d make,
Harvesting her life and loves
And every detail rake.

She couldn’t sing, she couldn’t dance,
She couldn’t act or write;
She didn’t run politically
And stood not left or right.

But somehow she’d acquired fame
And held it ‘til the end;
Like she lived she left the stage
A paparazzo’s friend. 

Helicopters whirled ‘round
The hotel where she died,
The final glimpse of Anna Smith -
Fame and fortune’s bride.

Leave a Comment