Remaining Clueless Poem by Joan Pond

Joan Pond


Nantucket Looms,
as the Chicken Box booms.
This early AM,
Ted Kennedy seems green
about the gills.
Guess he had his fill
of the Club Car.
I know the feeling.
I’d been there before,
with a loser-type.
He’d asked if I believed in reincarnation,
after I’d had a few.

I wouldn’t have
a clue.