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Then And Now
When I was a young man
And fireflies glowed in the dusk,
My plague was the Japanese beetle
Who bounced off the pavements of the city
Like Mexican jumping beans.
Our Godfather was the ward heeler,
His henchmen arranged their clothing
In City Hall restrooms,
Where the brass spittoon was not yet antique.
The Elysian field was an asphalt playground
I ran from the gangs of the city,
Everyone searched for the Mayor
In his own neighborhood taproom.
We pushed and shoved our way
to the single opened window,
Breathed the air on a sultry summer night
Gaped at the splendor
Of the only vegetation in the block.
We wondered at the stars above the slums
Held on grimly to each penny
For that bottle of milk,
The cream still rose to the top
Pushed its way through the neck On
the window sill
Of any frozen morning.
Polished stone and glistening steel
Have replaced the home, The
corner drug store is a shopping mall.
We sit programmed before the tube
Zombies in a national lobotomy
A great silence moves across the land
Punctuated only by the sound of munched popcorn. Jack
Mashman
1981 |
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