Marilyn Monroe died, a phone clutched in her hand.
Her precious life reduced to this: a single phone call.
And just the operator there to comfort her, in this,
her final hours before the curtain falls, and say,
“Sorry, wrong number.”
Her eyelids falling,
her words slurring into silence,
and then the darkness.
Naked on her bed,
beautiful even in death,
the lady sleeps.
About prufrock21
M. A. Ramos is a writer of short stories and poetry from the Caribbean. He grew up and was educated in Chicago, IL, has a master's in TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language) and currently works as an Auxiliary Administrator for the Dept. of Education in his hometown. He has published stories in small literary mags such as Chiricú (Indiana University) and Latino Stuff Review, and poetry in Dragonfly, Rattle, Latino Stuff Review, Cyclo*Flame, and Writer’s Digest. His poems have appeared online at Red River Review, The Cortland Review and Gold Dust Magazine.
His Kindle books can be found here:
Investigative Eye: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01G96LEDA
Pocket Horror: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01JTK0K6K
Pocket Sci-Fi: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01J4H4COE
Pray for the Hit Man: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01KS1389U
The Horror Writer: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01I2D7QI0
Treasure of Darkness: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XKPYCRP
Prufrock21's Weblog 