Scheherazade could scarcely spin such tales
to keep her interlocutor engaged
like aggravating CNN regales
its viewership until it grows assuaged
by news that is at least a few weeks old.
Not even wide-eyed kings would be seduced
if consorts humored them with tales thrice-told,
that nonetheless consistently help boost
the ratings of its jaded viewership.
No termination of the nuptial knot
with anchors, or its stewardship,
for raking over breaking news once hot.
Oh, they might add a fresh and novel spin
to stagnant summaries to make us get involved.
But shrewd Scheherazade would brook chagrin
from Sultans till her marriage came dissolved.
Still, anchors act like virgin newlyweds
another day to keep their talking heads.
Finding Turnstiles in Strange Places
I’m sorry for entering your bedroom
at 3 am. I thought it was 8:30 in the morning
and that I was on the Number 4 express train
en route to Bowling Green. I’m not surprised,
as such, at the eviscerating look you gave
me with the crew of MTA officials
standing near your bed. Your glowering
look froze me in my tracks, even as I crossed
the threshold leading to your comfort sofa –
which was apparently made of metal.
Under the circumstances, it was brash of me
to enter your inner sanctum so gingerly,
scarcely aware of the gap between your teeth
and platform shoes. Having stayed there
for 20 minutes, it was generous of you
not to call the cops and have me arrested
before I had a chance to stand clear
of your bedroom’s rapidly closing door.
Frank De Canio was born & bred in New Jersey, works in New York. He loves music of all kinds, from Bach to Dory Previn, Amy Beach to Amy Winehouse. Shakespeare is his consolation, writing his hobby. He likes Dylan Thomas, Keats, Wallace Stevens, Frost, Ginsburg, and Sylvia Plath as poets.