Confessional Poem
People say they love my honesty, but honestly,
I’m a liar and a thief. I would steal your mother
and help you look for her. What was she wearing?
Large breasts or small? Truly I have a prurient
bent. I sometimes incline toward pure prurience.
But at least I’m honest about it. I am up front
at the adult movie theater. I’m in the first row
where there’s nothing between me and these
fine actors, some of whom are really very fine—
I mean they’re so convincing I believe they are
in love. I believe I am in love. I mean that’s how
good they are. But me, I’m not a good person. I would
pocket your twenty if I found it on the floor of
your car. I would borrow your car without asking you.
I would steal your line and put it in my poem without
crediting you. I would sleep with your mother
if she were good looking enough and willing. Honestly,
I am not an honest person and this poem is not
an honest poem. It expresses feelings and beliefs that
I have never felt or entertained. It’s a sad day when
someone like you lets someone like me get away
with something like this. What were you thinking?
Paul Hostovsky's poems have won a Pushcart Prize, two Best of the Net Awards, and have been featured on Poetry Daily, Verse Daily, The Writer's Almanac, and the Best American Poetry blog. He makes his living in Boston as a sign language interpreter. Website: paulhostovsky.com
