He Once Said

He Once Wrote How quickly the vanishing Where once shone the sun Now only skyscraper shade Horse drawn wagons Once parked below tenement smiles As rope baskets lowered with coins Sent back with apples and grapes Knife sharpening push carts Their grinding wheels Ever turning razor sharp edges Making cheap meat cut special Tilted fedoras tipped By cashmere-draped gangsters Greeted numbers-hungry tenants While knickered children Ran their errands for pennies Warning shop owners They needed protection Then... Came post-war-family-building Turning wanton streets alive Baby strollers passed Job hungry veterans passing No Help Wanted signs In slumlord heaven How precarious his street became Teetering between shelter and commerce Preservation and extinction Wrecking ball and obstinacy Finally... Housing Department placed him elsewhere Nice He guessed Missed the old stairs though Squeaks Creaks Scrapes Sounds and smells His special friends Now Seems little comfort is left Modern whoosh of elevators Whirls of air conditioning Frequent ambulance sirens Stopping below Providing the lucky ones With their last ride Boredom no more He once wrote