Even our most beloved gods & idols can reveal themselves to be mere all-too-human mortals– like in “A Fan Girl Meets David Bowie,” Sarah Lilius‘ powerful poem from our Spring 2016 issue.

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CIGARETTE BUTTS IN A CRYSTAL ASHTRAY, opulence
with stink, curtains catch the smoke.
I see him watch me, wonder when I’d dance
but it’s not the 1980’s and my hair’s in place.
I think of the Labyrinth, a place to lose
myself, in my youth those tight pants
were everything, I dreamt of men
with makeup, men who sing
me to sleep, who laugh in different hats.

He never closes the door, doesn’t smile
as much as I thought he would.
His accent is faded a bit from the city
but still a Brit, I ask him about the Queen.
He looks out a clean window, flicks ash
to the floor and waits for the maid
to vacuum it up.

My dead fantasy is a sealed deal
when Iman walks in, tells me
it’s time to go.

{ X } Continue reading “A Fan Girl Meets David Bowie” – Poetry by Sarah Lilius →