The eerie pink of this particular video of Marilyn Monroe singing Happy Birthday…yep. I’ve been writing ridiculous poems that are half monologue half play, the premise is you are standing in the kitchen drinking tea and your name is Marilyn Monroe. Here is a poem I wrote, premise: Marilyn Monroe bakes a cake but doesn’t have the ingredients so has to go to Tescos. Plus the part from Breaking Bad when Skyler does a Marilyn. I could hardly watch. (p.s Happy Birthday Stirred)
I go to Tescos, I’m pretending I’m Marilyn Monroe
I’m arching my feet and tossing my head,
smiling at no-one, then at the security on Tescos.
They shake their heads, they don’t recognise me.
I’m Marilyn choosing which type of flour to buy
The whole world is ogling my legs, I mustn’t forget butter.
I want to be loved by you, I say to the cheese section,
the Parmesan won’t reply.
At home I make a birthday cake, huge,
I practice throaty breathing,
I lick my lips and swallow icing
piping to sweetness my blood.