Deanna Durbin

He liked Deanna Durbin,
her high warbling voice.
He liked Judy Garland too;
popular singers from his childhood.
Virgins and pill-heads, friends of Dorothy.

He had a fucking difficult life.
Not some cliché of a council estate life.
No those lives are black and white.
When we know,
we know it’s not even grey.

You think its hard being you,
when all you do is disguise the good stuff,
and emphasise the bad.
She out-lived him,
that princess with a hymen intact.

And I truly believe he was never truly he.
But I can’t be certain.
Because once I saw him happy, saw him laugh.
Saw the person he was, before the bottle
and the bitterness beat him down.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: