'38 Caddy

On either side Of a crowded family dinner table There are signs of ambition and resentment Success and failure Marked by those who pass The plate And those who only take. A lighter than air blimp Floated Lazy circles High above a City Of breadlines desperation As New York struggled Through the Great Depression. Hank was tough Self reliant and hungry Eager to impress He washed And waxed His uncle’s car Calloused hands Carefully caressing The sleek curves Of a 1938 V16 Caddy. Catching his reflection In the chrome grill work He ignored The rough lines In his face Focusing instead On the money And power behind The car. Wet sponge Going up and down The rich’s man car Sweat pouring down his neck Pails of water Clanging an alarm Under an August sun Having never owned a car Hank Was dismayed When the wax Clouded Up In the summer heat. Well dressed Republican Hands on hips Uncle was upset At what he saw Incompetence Was wasted time. The sudsy water Drained away Any hopes of Hank getting a job In his uncle’s firm. The Depression was a disaster For some it came sooner For Uncle it came later Packing a surprise punch That was catastrophic Uncle lost everything. The house The fancy parties And the ‘38 Caddy with dual spare tires mounted on each front Gone for pennies on the dollar. Ever resourceful Hank got a job as a clerk In the US Patent Office One day He realized Beef and potatoes On a modest clerk’s salary Tasted better than Uncle’s lavish dinners The seeds of disappointment From that summer’s day Occasionally came back To remind him what was meant to be Thinking of his red faced Uncle In a starched shirt On that hot August afternoon Hank broke into a wide grin And ordered another plate of beef stew.