JOURNAL

They are scattering you tonight or tomorrow
And I am with you every breath of the way
I hope there is a brisk wind that will take you far and wide
Everyone in the world wanted a piece of you
Now you can accommodate them all
Land lightly on their greedy brows
Or blur their eyes with your gritty essence
Or if we could conjure up a gale
You could choke them all to death
— A poem Marlon’s sister, Jocelyn, wrote for his funeral. "How’s that for a dirge, old man, I think he would have liked." || Brando’s Smile: His Life, Thought, and Work by Susan L. Mizruchi (via fuckyeahbrando)
Jane Dorn