A Sonnet for Hanged Men

A Sonnet for Hanged Men

I wanted to be a Monroe girl; the smoking jewel.
There were champagne parties in my bedroom.
I’d play with Mother’s lipstick; breaking one rule.
A splash of colour thrills the flowers that bloom.

If I have lost, I have lost in a significant way.
Squished into a ball, like a spider’s egg.
I excel in every avenue; from here to Colwyn Bay.
In my dream house, I will never grieve nor beg.

Split five ways wide, one must fight with tongues.
If a poet is found, how will the continents know?
Their landscapes raw with soldered prongs,
they find a hanged man and a lonesome crow.

If, in all this rot, they can resurrect me,
I want to be a mermaid; the dryad of the sea.