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American Portrait 17

by Ken Harnisch

Sitting on the starwashed deck
Looking out at the quiet blue Atlantic
Richard Dehavens wonders if he should
Bring his wife’s attention
To the tangerine colored sunset
If he could only drag her away
From Steven Spielberg and Kate Capshaw
For the Moment.
 
It seems to Richard they plot
The same end, even at the beginning.
Absent the helicopter to fly
Them back to New York,
(“ Oh, I know it’s a lot! But shouldn’t we try it, just once?”)
The Hamptons become all about
Arriving on a Thursday night
And driving back before the Sunday rush.
 
Richard tilts his glass to Billy Joel, who is
On or off the wagon this week, it is difficult
To remember. And Billy is talking to Angelina,
Who will be joining Brad for the New York premiere of
His new movie next Tuesday.
Richard’s wife pouts that reservations
At the trendy restaurant on Old Montauk Highway
Are impossible to get, yet her nose curdles
When he dares suggest that tonight
Perhaps they just order a pizza at Antonio’s
Down the road
 
Oh Richard! Come on! And knowing her husband can
Be so serious at times, she softens her voice and says,
Why did we get this house? Do you even remember?
And the truth is, he does, but he knows she
Does not share the memory or the simplicity of
His old vision, if indeed she ever did.
The Hamptons, she says, are not about getting away
But getting immersed, and watching her chat up
Leonardo, who prefers his in a glass, Richard wonders
If it wasn’t always the seed of another plan
 
He does ponder his luck at times, wondering if a deal here or
There, or the exquisite ballsy timing he brings to
His associations with money and the men who have it
Are the only thing that separates him from this and
Poor Antonio down the road
But, to him,  poor Antonio always knows where he came from
And his children seem so  much happier than his own
But this dichotomy,  were it pointed out to his wife,
She would call an illusion, if she called it anything at all. 
 
So the sunset dies unadmired
Except for the voice of some Gatsby girl who says, “Ohh, look at that,”
Before telling Vera Wang
That Katie’s dress was stunning, absolutely stunning.
And as Richard stands there, fingering the stem of his martini glass.
Billy, who was born in the Bronx, and Richard,
Who came up from the projects in Queens
Suddenly annoy the guests by breaking out into
A roundelay of old doo-wop songs
And watching his wife’s face squirrel up
Into embarrassed indignity, Richard smiles and sings louder
And on key with Billy Joel, “In The Still of The Night.”

06/23/2007

Posted on 06/23/2007
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Carolyn Coville on 07/04/07 at 03:24 PM

oh i love it as always! may we never forget that it is truly the simple things that fulfill our lives...

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