Farrah Fawcett poem...

While I was away at a lodge, a couple of stars left us.

I have never been to believe someone is better or more important just because they are known or famous, but it would ignorant of me not to see their effect on our culture and pop-culture. I know they each made an impression in my life (I was a teenager during the Thriller years and grew up in the 70's watching Charlie's Angels, buying Angel trading card packs at the store, and playing Charlie's Angels with my friends-- though I of course, always played Kelly, my friend Lisa (the lightest blonde) played Jill and no one ever wanted to be Sabrina... but Jenny had her hairstyle, so it defaulted to her.)

But back to the recent news...

I found this poem I wrote many years ago, I can't remember if it was published anywhere (if so, I'll find that out and list the journal), but I don't think it was.

So here it is for a couple days before it vanishes. This was my suburban neighborhood and my memories of growing up...


Poster
circa 1977


Growing up, every garage had her,
except ours. My father was older,
did not put up posters.
But the others, they kept her pinned
to their back wall, smiling.
She looked cold in her swimsuit
and I wondered how everyone’s dad
knew to choose the same poster,
that same look, that same bouncy hair
my girlfriends and I tried to recreate in the bathroom,
curling iron hot, burning our necks,
our fingers, our small ten-year-old hands
trying to hold the attention of boys.



- Kelli Russell Agodon


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Comments

  1. Oh, that's so weird. I've got a Farrah poster poem, too. I'm going to post it up this week on my blog. Love yours.

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