Coney Island Ad 1829- 2011
The fall of Rome
The sack of it
The glory that was
Is only a memory embedded in the
Souvenirs and documents of the past
For the newly arrived to imagine upon and reconstruct Rome
In their minds.
Glory to god
The fences go up and down,
In and out.
The holes spread out and decay
And those holding on to their memories still decay with them.
Glory to god
The unconstrained fun is no more
Except in old photographs.
The ruins of the wonder-wheel and
The cyclone have become icons
And remnants of a once great society
The glorious and eternal sea breeze
Passes sadly amongst them.
Old lovers
Rest in peace
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