Waiting for Slim/ Melania’s Cheekbones (redux)

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Waiting for Slim

Sunday afternoon in late June
I’m sitting outside The Post-Coital Beetle
watching the traffic on Broadway,
at the next table, four bearded guys
wearing flat caps and plaid shirts,
looking like the bastard sons of Mumford,
are downing pints of over-hopped pale ale.
At the traffic lights, an eighteen year old Asian kid
checks his hair in the rear view mirror
while his Lamborghini growls
like a panther on a leash.
And who is this slouching along Broadway
his bald head shining in the sun?
No, it is not an image out of Spiritus Mundi,
it’s not one of the boys of summer,
it’s Slim,
a man with all the charm of a pit bull with distemper;
his remaining hair is scrunched into an angry man-bun
he’s carrying a magazine
which he slams down on the table in front of me
“Look at this bullshit!” he whines.

Later, as the sun goes down over Point Grey
and automatic timers turn lights
on in empty Styrofoam mansions,
we settle in to a plate of nachos
and one pitcher follows another
until we find ourselves face to face
trading lines like Lennon and McCartney (well, not quite)
and driven by our shared admiration
of Melania Trump’s granite cheekbones
we compose this maudlin cri de couer

Melania
his megalomania
don’t let it stain ya
don’t let it restrain ya
don’t let it contain ya
and if he should fail ya
remember this:
you know the size
of his hands
and his……..

(the last line is drowned out
by the roar of a feral Ferrari
tearing down Broadway).

The challenge from Sarah over at dverse is to write a poem about waiting, thought I’d revive this one.

23 thoughts on “Waiting for Slim/ Melania’s Cheekbones (redux)

  1. sarahsouthwest

    automatic timers turn lights
    on in empty Styrofoam mansions,

    love that – makes them seem like a stage set, which I guess they are. Poor Melania. You know what they say – when you marry for money, you really earn it.

    Like

    Reply
  2. Glenn A. Buttkus

    A wonderful slice of life, street scene, topical ballad. It has a touch of the Beats, a pinch of Bukowski, and a sliver of Ginsberg; loved it. Strong muscular word smithing and strong sense of place.

    Like

    Reply
  3. Truedessa

    You certainly brought the day alive with the sounds and sights. Oh, this one really stands out! I can picture the car stuck in city traffic.

    while his Lamborghini growls
    like a panther on a leash.

    Like

    Reply
  4. kim881

    I felt like I was there, at the next table, this poem is so vivid. I like the description of the four bearded guys ‘looking like the bastard sons of Mumford’ and the Lamborghini growling ‘like a panther on a leash’. I love the humour in this piece, especially:
    ‘No, it is not an image out of Spiritus Mundi,
    it’s not one of the boys of summer,
    it’s Slim,
    a man with all the charm of a pit bull with distemper’!

    Like

    Reply
    1. sdtp33 Post author

      What’s viagra? 😊…..I was in Barcelona last year and met a Slovenian couple, they were proud of Melania, but conflicted. Proud because she is a famous Slovenian and conflicted because of the company she keeps!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  5. Steve Simpson

    A lot of atmosphere in this enjoyable piece, Jim. … regalia? paraphernalia? 😸 Your Estee Lauder blues too. It reminded me of another blues, and now it’s come to me: “You’ve gotta move.” Mind you, now I know, I realise that the rhythm is different. 😆 PS: I liked your Shakespearean autumn haiku.

    Like

    Reply

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