Italian Stallion

You were a Mediterranean mystery

Almond sugar shaped eyes,

set in deep brown jus.

Ebony thick skinned hair,

smooth as silk, a confident air.

You were drop-dead gorgeous,

an Italian stallion.

Groovy movie, an empty star

White teeth smile,

a shining illusion — a flirty guile

Platform heels,

with a Mick Jagger swagger

You rocked a mock

1970s

D. I. S. C. O

Dee Jay Discotheque

Silk cut cigarettes,

lobbed in the leather console,

a flashy yellow Cortina.

Looking for money, needed a lot of honey

Big Bosomed Women,

made you feel a man

You did your duties between your booties,

Listening to Lennon

watching the wheels go round,

and round.

Backflips and summertime curls

Juggling tea cups, a natural clown

You wanted to make it big

You had to be a someone,

So you didn’t feel a no one.

Now you’re ugly and old.

Your insecurities have twisted your face

I wonder if you’ll think about me

and realize I could have been,

your saving grace.

***

As a child, I adored my father from a very deep place, until eventually, I understood his distance as disdain and shame for me. I didn’t want to accept it was an actuality. I didn’t want to accept the truth; I was in denial. Still, through my adult years, I became more and more indifferent, an icicle and he became lost and buried in the darkest corner of a hidden emotional chasm.

*Published in my poetry chapbook: In Search of My Soul

© Chantal Weiss 2025. All Rights Reserved