Clark Samson

 Clark Samson turns Eighty Six

John Clare

The Southern Exposure volunteer stylist clipped

his locks for his eighty sixth birthday party 

Telling him how young he looks

Reminding her of the Clark Samson 

her grandmother knew in the seventies 

Who once she said swooned the ladies

Lately paying for all the toppling 

Leaving the once strong loins krypton weak

the igniting of foxy fires a dim glowing

kept going on the long regime of prescription 

filling

Such were the travails one endures for Delilah Louise 

Pestering him daily lazing about in the faded

suit of Royal and Red saying to Clark,

“Outside lurk the Philistine Witnesses, with 

lustful intent upon your Delilah Louise, coming

to crop your locks!” “You better find some jawbone!”

“Now make a wish and blow out your candles!”

Taking a deep breath and...

Seeing the Philistines...pressing on the call button...

pleading for someone to please bring his walker...

so Clark can amble down the long corridor, out the alarmed door, to the smooth granite columns,

to make his Delilah Louise proud of him.

“These Kingdom walls shall fall! The foxes with their flaming tails shall burn the crops!”

“I see the flames before me!”

Mr Samson, Mr Samson, wake up!

Spitting and gasping for breath, smoke rising,

soon the alarm to trip, not one Philistine in the room, reality and dream as one dream of reality.

Gathered about the bed his lovely Delilah Louise

and the Good Samaritan staff singing,

Happy Birthday Clark Samson, happy birthday to you! The cake was chocolate, the ice cream 

butter pecan, the food of gods and super heroes

and Clark Wayne Samson on this 86th birthday.