Fish scales
In between the
Cobble stone streets
They’ve been
Scaling fish there
For many years
At Faneuil Hall
People meet
A camera
Only gets the feet
Of the President’s son
He’s taking a meeting
With friends on ethics
Don & Kimberly not Eric
A Town Car stops me
Asks me to join them
Apparently they
Like my poetry
My mother she
Gives a speech
She’s unimpressed
She’s saying
It’s no big deal
Important men
Come and go
Speaking of
Her husband’s death
She tells them
His father
Had staying power
Late in the hour
It’s time for a drink
I was gonna take a swim
But they want me
To join them
Through the door
Walks Mr. Mick
I would’ve preferred
Keith but Mick
Is cool to meet
So you like my poetry
We drink and we eat
We talk about songs
We really get a long
Kimberly
Wants to get it on
I feel her bare feet
Under the table
On my leg
She feels how able
Like Anais Nin
And Wallace Fowlie
He told me
About women
Who enjoy
Testing a
Man’s virility
Oh Jesus
Have I fallen
Or is this
The new reality
So I said
Excuse me
Can you
Pass the salad
Please
Mick smokes a joint
And to me he points
Rather gallantly
He’s a poet
I guess I show it
Telling stories
About the old canal
From Pittsburgh to
Beaver to Lake Erie
Fish scales
They shine like
Silver teeth
Of old women
Sitting in a circle
Peeling fruit
For canning
In mason jars
The old women
They’re the stars
It’s getting late
I need more sleep
I go alone
Headed towards
Home
The night takes it
Easy on me
Nights ghosts
They like my poetry
October 10, 2018
John Conte
MyStrawHat.com
& TheNewEverydayMedia.com
