by Michael Mauro DeBonis, May 4, 2019
The paddlewheel poet, piloting The River of Rivers,
those words he would float, he shook into shivers!
He went west with the Sun, looking for
some silver and a little gold, as well.
He found much of nothing…no such treasures
to sell!
But in a tavern idle, lonely and cold,
he snatched a tale with a title…and one to be told!
The fires were raised, to burn out the rain!
Sam was the man, who called him Mark Twain.
Such were the stories he worked into wealth…
to make our minds move, from sickness to health.
A misplaced knight and racing frogs,
a prince and a pauper…boys lazy as logs,
all had yarns to weave into wits.
With pages and a pen, he made phrases from fits!
Soon a wife came and children, too.
Riches and renown were his, right and true.
Is happiness a thing that can tell a man lies?
But sorrows were his. They fell from his eyes!
Livy was dead and all his children but one,
and to him joy was gone…long, long gone.
He wore a white suit, spotless and clean.
He walked into a saloon, wild and mean.
But time had stopped, for all at this scene.
He joked, he smoked, with his cigarettes lit!
Men knew not their troubles, and grudges quit.
His hair was silver as well-cleaned ore.
His skin was creased and easily it tore.
But this man was a man, who could not bore!
Words left his mouth, fusing fire and air.
Then as smoke settled, he was not there.
About the Author: Michael Mauro DeBonis is a poet and a historian from Long Island, NY. Michael’s first work appeared in the Village Beacon Record and the Brookhaven Times newspapers. Michael’s latest work may be found in the New York History Review (poetry and prose) and the New York History Blog (prose only). A graduate of SUNY Stony Brook (B. A. English) and Suffolk County Community College, Mr. DeBonis is dedicated to studying and to learning the rich and diverse history of the great State of New York.
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