Wednesday, October 10, 2018

The President’s Son _ New October Poem 2018

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 
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 
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 
The night takes it
Easy on me
Nights ghosts
They like my poetry 

October 10, 2018
John Conte