1035. FOR MARIAN REVERE

FOR MARIAN REVERE
Oh listen now to me. I never snookered
your non-conformist blueblood vein into
an unwilling situation. I took you by force
but once. And as I recall you smiled for hours.
Picking up your clothes, your ran off like a
She-Goddess prancing to light. Anyway, the
report I had said your mother had millions, and
it was all coming to you. I ventured to bid on that
stupid ashtray you wanted from Sotheby's big
auction room. For you, not me. Once owned by
Emilia Carthwright Forbes, whomever. Seventeen
thousand three hundred dollars later, it was in your
hands. On that fireplace mantle it stayed for a year.
Millicent finally made you move it somewhere safe.
No, no, I never said a word. I gathered nothing;
neither moss nor notches in my gun barrel, though
I could have counted whenever I wanted. That
little 2-seater Morgan you drove around in,
a pile of nothing, I always thought. But oh what
a showing you made. Horse shows, trade fairs,
polo roundelays. Many were the days I'd have
rather walked straight out into the ocean than
go through another strenuous afternoon.
With you. But I was brave. Like a work
animal, I slathered and slaved. All
for toil, and none forgave.
Oh listen now to me.