Happy Ending

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I dig out the old typewriter

as I want to drunk write

a crazy flamboyant story

Moulin Rouge style

only the whore doesn’t die

but lives happily ever after

having renounced her ways

stopped hawking her wares

for a handful of rose petals

a treasure chest filled with hope

wild kisses beneath a lamp post

silhouettes backlit by the storm

a canary bird waking up at dawn

twirling on its perch, notes emerge

from its tiny beak a power surge

powerful as waves on a fractured shore

there lies the beauty of being a writer

tap tap tap go the keys

you can rewrite, relive, tweak

each and every bit of the story

my whore has red stains on her cheeks

vivid colour induced by satisfied lust

I’ve taken out consumption, disease

added drama I deem alluring

it’s perfect now as it isβ€”romanticβ€”

tempestuous, but with a happy ending

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59 thoughts on “Happy Ending

  1. This reminds me of when you’re reading something – or watching something – and you’re really disappointed in the ending (I’m looking at you, Gone With the Wind) Then I just want to re-write it. Fix it if you will πŸ™‚

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    1. Lol I’m sorry “Gone With The Wind” upset you so. If it’s any consolation, you’re far from the only one πŸ˜‰
      This particular book didn’t have quite such an effect on me but other books have done this to me too…so I know the feeling only too well.

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      1. I didn’t feel it with Gone With The Wind too much … the one that got me and I’m embarrassed to admit this is Bridges of Madison County, not the film, the book. FUCK when I read that it was Madam Bovary x 100. I can’t take it when love isn’t able to BE.

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      2. I used to think it was ‘hard’ to live for other things (art/dance/beauty/travel/sex/food) but truly you realize, it all comes down to one thing, without which the rest pale or have no color. I wonder sometimes as we both like Bukowski, maybe that was missing in his work and why though I appreciate him I never LOVED him the way I might someone who really felt and understood love. Madame Bovary slayed me too. Totally. To me that is love. Weird huh? To see love in a tragic form? Yet it is the sacrifice and the pain that identifies it. I mean sure, love can be happy but …

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      3. I think because you know it’s true – whereas for us both – joy has been fleeting, sporadic and unreliable and often not true. So when you know something is true even if it is ‘sad’ then you feel you can rely upon it far more – do you think?

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    1. Thank you! French people who live in England huddle together like sheep! Lol and they can be found in either one of two places: London or B-town, so not the former but the latter for me.

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      1. Oh, I heard about something like that last year but missed it. Though I thought it was earlier than June but I’m not sure. One of my friends who was still living in B-town at the time went and made me promise to go to the next one. I wonder if it’s the one you’re talking about.

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