Edie Undimmed

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A Poem about Edie Sedgwick, Andy Warhol's tragic superstar.

1. Objective Desire

 

Down a steel shaft,

cold and hollow,

She falls

Into the euphoric sea-spill

of bone-pale

Phosphorescence--

A radiance to white out

The Big Sadness.

And the bassy backbeat

that moves her

Feet

is the pounding,

sounding

four-four

time

of a velveteen underground

Where the undead dance

With chalky complexions

and leers

like blackened craters.

Her mascaraed face pale

as a sarcophagus mask:

Arctic beautiful in an expression of wanting,

longing,

Lusting,

Lacking.

Her stare crosses the void

and steel spaces

And vacant byways

of skyscraper canyons

And asphalt paths

that web out to all

commercial points

on a

Glossy globe

Ever-spinning

with ever-rapiding

Twirl of speed-cocaine-amphetamine

Accelerations

Till all the old foundations

loosen

And fly spaceward into infinity,

leaving a smoldering molten core

Of 15 minute celebrity

--mass-produced with silk-screened

automation,

Their only differentiation:

Warhol’s

Abstracted smears of paint.

 

Abstracted stare under paint

That probes the endless nothing all

Her loved ones have fallen into:

One poor brother from the end of a noosed cord of hemp,

One poor brother from the metal cocoon of motorcycle wreckage,

One poor father (deviled deity)

from the incestuous embrace of

Carcinogenic tissue.

 

Her light shadows

To eye-silence

And her lids close

Like fleshy final curtains.

 

2. Subjective Entire

 

Opening my eyes to a new day,

I’m one day farther

removed from the day

You failed to say

goodbye.

We shared one year

On earth

(From the winter to the fall)

Though unmet

In that first-to-last time.

And I came to know you

Through the Factory films

Andy and the others

Caught your spirit in

Like celluloid amber.

And a jarred soul is still

A soul, though never

Free from consuming eyes.

And your stare across the dead

Decades holds mine

And there is a symbiotic synergy

Between us

That merges our mouths

and minds

In the in-between

Of dreams.

I will not let you die,

Ms. Sedgwick.

You shall always live in me,

Ms. Tragic Iconic.

I will not let you die.

I shall always hold you

In the warmth of my spirit.

And like you,

I have known the Big Sadness.

I have known the loss of love.

I have known the drug-deadened

Sedation of flesh-boned waking terrors

And the come-down into night-reality.

And I shall live

So you may live in me.

And I shall live

To meet you again

In the euphoric sea-spill

Of bone-pale

phosphorescence.

You shall always live

In me,

Ms. Tragic Iconic.

And our mutual tragedies

Are the lifeline that enwraps

Us and holds us together

In the warmth of my spirit.

And though you failed

To say goodbye,

I shall count the hours

Till the in-between

And say

Ciao…

For now.


Submitted: December 21, 2021

© Copyright 2022 Thomas LaHomme. All rights reserved.

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