Time has not forgot,
Me, that sweet Dutch girl, so terribly sought,
For my youth, and my charm,
and my wet sensuality,
Men hovered and coveted,
That ended me, eventually.
D.R. was my nickname,
A loved one once used,
Dorothy, many did whisper,
when hot males so mused,
On my innocence, my light, and my lusty skill,
Then, why, oh God why,
did a man want to kill?
Beauty, to me, is to the beastly Elephant Man,
All the eyes, they did stare,
All the glares from drooling fans.
My life cut so short,
My life lived so tough,
A magazine centerfold would never be enough.
Oh, how I wish I didn't go that hot summer's day,
To a man who thought he owned me,
To a pimp who'd make me pay.
Starlets die hard, I very well knew,
In the town of tarnished tinsel,
All the pretty palms and pristine pools don't negate that ever present evil.
That day around noon,
T'was a loud bullet round,
It tore thru my left cheek,
Bony shards all around.
I was raped,
I was tortured,
I was horrendously gunned down,
By a man who said he loved me,
His suicide blast, the final sound.
For hours upon hours,
Black ants nibbled at our naked skin,
Til the cops with their blaring sirens made such an awful din.
My storied life, wiped out,
My aura all depleted,
My celebrity in mere months was unceremoniously unseated.
Nowadays, and for 40 years,
I rest quietly below,
Westwood buried, with Hef now, and Marilyn M in a nearby row.
The tears shed have long gone,
And I'm forgotten by most,
But Bogdanovich has the plot next,
We will love again as ghosts.
Yet the urge, it's still there,
To relive Star 80 but with more care,
For this time I would know,
How to avoid the deadly show.
But alas, past's not prologue,
I'm only ashes now, you see,
My spirit taken by that bullet,
No unicorn left in dead me.
Once upon a time, as tellers say,
A naive girl was led astray,
From Canada, I fast left,
Playboy fortune was the bet.
My curvy skin, t'was laid bare,
At Hef's mansion with fanfare,
But the price, it would be blood,
How could I foresee that mighty flood?
Beauty, t'was my blessed curse,
Vile death, it Heaven sends,
So, please, don't go my way,
Avoid my blasted end.
Yes, Dorothy was my name,
Stratten, last name, it was, too,
Illusive, money and fame,
Infamy I more now coo.
For God’s sake, yes, please, yes,
Heed this awful refrain,
Of my bright light snuffed out,
Don't play that Hollywood game.
***
Dorothy Stratten
February 28, 1960 - August 14, 1980
***
~ poem by Barbara Thompson, fellow Pisces, fellow Canadian, 4 years Dorothy's junior.
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