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The Mistress
The Mistress.
Mary Jo where are you know? Dusty bones in a cemetery?
A dashing man drove you through the night, over a bridge
that wasn’t there, into the water and then you were alone
breathing through pockets of air in the car, waiting for him
to come rescue you. Didn’t hear his steps, on pebbly road,
as he was ran away? And your tears became the sea.
Mary Jo I have not forgotten you, the man who betrayed
you is dead, they gave him a great send off, a president and
the great came to his wake, wonder if anyone thought of you;
even your parents were paid off not to talk of you in public,
yet I do remember and think of you now the charming man,
the brother of brothers, has gone
poem
by
Oskar Hansen
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