I Dream of Jeannie

The title role to be re-cast with Scarlett

Johansson, yet undreamt of, already unbottled.

Her coif in Scarlet Woman, an original by Revlon,

and her trademark baby blues digitally untouched

per the contract, the better to beam into your eyes, dear.

O Scarlett, we can’t wait to see you smile.

Maybe not in this movie, maybe not even the next,

but someday you will be blessed

with happiness! We’ll be sitting in the dark,

crying when it comes. You may not know him now,

but Major Anthony is to be played by my master,

the magician. Only Brando, that old recluse,

considers the practice of the dark arts “abominable.”

Studio execs have no such problem.

My master the magician knows what movies are made for

and what dreams are good for. Just for your sake,

girl, be careful. Even a scarlet starlet can find her light

extinguished in a poof of black magic.

Picture Scarlett’s half-grin in a half-veil,

a slave to love, ironically, all her tears post-feminist,

and have sympathy! Ere Barbara Eden rears

her pink fez into the screen of your mind’s playhouse,

swear never to wear high-heels for anyone,

or cross your arms and blink twice to any question.

I’ll never get Jean mixed up with Jenny,

and I’ll never forget what’s-her-name.

No matter what happens, Scarlett,

you’ve pierced a hole in our eyes,

riddled as they may be with stars,

and the magician will pull you through

like a thread through the eye of a needle.

We'll make a necklace of needles. It’ll be so pretty.