Atlantic City Sunday
Marble-sided buildings sunk in the sand
Jumped 40 glassy stories on command.
Everyone thinks life is nothing and money’s grand.
Rolling chair hawkers spiel and cutely chide
Sunday suited daddies to pay for their brides.
So, a cavalcade of marmalade mommies ride,
(Fatted infants firmly holstered at each side),
Tossing constant comment diapers drenched with pride
To the beach where broken dreamers slept and died.
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