Poem: His Girl Friday, Mine

His Girl Friday, Mine

By Christine Stoddard
QuailBellMagazine.com

Cary Grant bluffing in the days before you could Google
human thought into non-existence.
Back when newsprint had a real smell and
Rosalind Russell was a heroine for having real brains.
She was beautiful, too, but that was besides the point
because she wanted to be heard, not just seen,
gawked at, catcalled and made to press her breasts together
before delivering a breathless number.
Beauty besides the point, besides the point like
how people once used newspaper for things other
than reading, things that somehow became the
primary reason for stacking up newsprint at all.

Line the litter box.
Wipe the mess.
Start a fire.

Wikipedia told me that Hecht and MacArthur wrote a play
called The Front Page that jumped to the silver screen
and made cinematic history,
{but Hildy and Walter had Wiki nada.}

I watched it on Netflix.