The Passion of Marilyn’s Skirt


My life was spent the envy of all men

Familiar of her power and allure

Wrapped about all that held them rapt

Clinging to the beauty they adjure.


And yet, it was a momentary breeze

––Brought me to breath, to life, to be

And then to dance; oh, such a dance!

That alone would arouse her passion, spontaneity.


About This:   Every man wants to be that skirt: to envelop, possess, be seen in possession of all that she represents, to clothe her with himself, and therefore to isolate what he imagines to be her selfhood from every other person.  Every man hopes that enlarges him and enhances her.

But none of that elicits passionate life from her; rather she is rigid, frigid; instead of beauty personified, she is a caricature of beauty, a cliche of passion.

It is only when caught unaware by a force of nature, taken by surprise, that the skirt loses its possession of her and she loses possession of her fixed posturing, and responds naturally, spontaneously, passionately.

 © Philip Knight 2018