The Continuing Confessions of A Daytime Talk Show Host

Source: Kenn Orphan

The Continuing Confessions of A Daytime Talk Show Host

My catalogue of pals stretches beyond Bush,

Trump, and the Emperor Bokassa’s personal crocodile.

For I am everywhere, and always have been:

helped Claus Von Bulow rewrite his Tinder profile

the day they switched his wife off;

had the Cleveland Torso Murderer judge

my show’s inaugural belly dancing competition

which, it being 1938,

was only available on radio, but, hey,

I’m always up for a challenge;

celebrated John Gotti’s twenty fifth

successive acquittal by gifting him

a diamond crusted

knuckle-duster, and paying

Annie Leibovitz

to photograph him wearing it;

and, yes, tried to hire

the Zodiac Killer as my show’s

resident astrologer

but Letterman got there first.

.

People misunderstand.

It’s my job to talk

to the guy who tied

Sacco and Venzetti to the chair,

like two sad salamis,

so I can ask him which

has been his favourite

fry up so far.

The fact I shared a table

and chicken skewers

with Vlad the Impaler

at a mutual friend’s wedding

and found him

a delightful conversationalist

is no criticism on my part

of those he had boiled

in his giant copper cauldron,

or hammered giant

wooden spikes

through.

I’ll be friends with anybody

as long as they’re somebody.

KEVIN HIGGINS