the big cities we have left behind fatten, grow old,
increasingly coarsen, they become poisoned,
and parts of them and their people wither

survivors often think of the old days
when the nights and days jumped like they never had before
that even when they slept they gave off light,
electricity and soothing rollicking sounds
they still feel awake but are not
those days are gone

they caused troubles in strange places,
like drug store luncheon counters, bowling alleys, on streets
named Wall and Main, highways and other byways

they were funny and strange, but they were
not right
they bamboozled the flyovers
sometimes they made them angry
but they were never hard to get rid of
“just turn the damn thing off and don’t read the papers”

after they fell, there was nothing

all of them at first didn’t realize it

most of them still don’t

it will take them years to figure it out

they weren’t our beloveds just aberrations
with the ability to exceed the limits
for a brief while dressed in their polished shoes
pressed shirts and store bought tans

we are the unshaven with dirty nails, rumpled shirts, stained pants,
and sandy shoes

when they left us high and dry, all our other things,
days off, songs, meals, drinks, movies and books
seemed ordinary and worthless
we thought they had brought us something special
but we were wrong

they tried to make us believe that living
without them would be horrid
but we shall

they will miss us more than we them

Copyright © 2017 From My Isle Seat
www.vicsocotra.com