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Because everyone "does" Brando -

Because everyone "does" Brando -
By Zyskandar A. Jaimot on 10/09/2007
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Because everyone "does" Brando –

imitating the growl of Don Corleone.
Telling us we must not refuse.
Because everyone wants to remember
the Brando of Streetcar, screaming in anguish
“Stella”. Bringing to mind brief glimpses
of flat male nipples, sweatily waiting under
a forever scraggly tee shirt, failing to hide muscularity
of our younger selves with promise still ahead.
Or like Terry realizing the world was corrupt
on those wharfs and in the rings where we felt
our life's blood escape, as Brando punchily emoted
as if to a primal beat, hundreds of drums throbbing,
compelling us to long for his fleshy mouth.
First full of foppish retorts in Mutiny On The Bounty,
then precisely enunciating cold Nazi-menace in Young Lions.
Immersing us with his own weather, as if he could
with just his presence on that screen, chill or warm our souls.
Commanding us to do his bidding.
Playing with our sex as easily as he made us believe

middleage men could tango in Paris.
Because wherever you go someone does Brando.
Imitating ourselves and how we wanted to act -
which is even now Marty Brando's genius -
being who we wish we were. Brando was the horror
in our Vietnam apocalypse always afraid to look
in that mirror and see ourselves. They mimic the method
of Brando just being Brando.

Everywhere on television, in the movies, at parties -
everyone "does" a Brando. Because everybody wants to be Brando:
go watch Tom Hanks in cute You’ve Got Mail
or catch erstwhile genius biker Tim Robbins in IQ
or remember how Diane Keaton tried to Stanley
her role as primal guerilla in Sleeper,
or watch Brando do Brando in The Freshman.
You will see someone slip into Brando.
As if we could distill the fierce method
where so many personnaes’ sprang from.
Like new heads blooming from the ancient dragon,
as easily as he severed friends always invoking others
to take their place. Once upon a time
riding matching motorcycles with of all people,
Wally Cox of "Mr. Peepers" fame.
Because Brando was the outlaw in all of us
taking over our hearts and a whole town
astride a chromed chopper with just a look of desperate need.
Sitting there ponderously now atop his throne.
America's dramatic bardic eye. Outfitted outlandishly
in pink silk scarf and black kimono, with matching lipgloss.
Brando always - his immenseness.

© By Zyskandar A. Jaimot On 10/9/2007 6:08:55 PM
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