Maroon Tie with Small Paisley
Pattern
In the dream I am Bill Clinton’s
stepchild.
I have Trump’s hair and Obama’s
voice.
I can’t find my tie and I have
no attention span.
Whatsoever.
Storm into rooms like a rhinoceros,
I enter beds like a Kennedy.
Ordered to leave,
I skulk off like a Nixon.
My hair drifts away, but you
still love me.
(I don’t see you in this dream —
I just know you’re there.
You love me no matter whose
voice I have.)
I have FDR’s bum legs yet am
happy as Taft in his bathtub.
Four score and seven hairs ago I
remembered where I put that tie.
Now I remember trying to get to
sleep by counting presidents.
What number do I give Chester A.
Arthur?
(21)
Where did I
leave
my tie?
I loved that tie.
Michael A. Griffith
Michael A. Griffith teaches at Raritan Valley and Mercer County Community Colleges in central NJ. He is the author of three chapbooks of poetry, Bloodline, Exposed, and New Paths to Eden (forthcoming). Recent works appear in Ariel Chart, Impspired, Miletus Literature Review, Pangolin Review, Scarlet Leaf Review, and The Lake. Mike lives near Princeton, NJ.
https://twitter.com/AuthorMGriffith
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Tags:
Poetry
High art to allow humor and politics. Wish i read more like it.
ReplyDeleteHi, Cassie, and thank you for reading and commenting! Have youi seen my poem "Magazine Contents, July 2, 2017 here on Ariel Chart? While not quite as political, there's some humor in it that you may enjoy.
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