(Wimpole Street, in the West End of London,
has been the scene of many interesting events,
from the elopement of Elizabeth Barrett Browning
to The Beatles composing "Help!")
The Long, Unlovely Street
It’s such a straight and long, unlovely street,
not quite the retail zone, not quite the mouth
of Regent’s Park. It plumbs a line north-south,
where Mayfair and more middling London meet.
Come walk with me on Wimpole, feast your eye
on blue ceramic plaques, as thick as leaves
that strew the brooks so loved by Freddie Treves,
where tall town houses shoulder out the sky!
Elopements, easements, songs of yesterday,
bereavements, human elephants and more:
we’ll see enchantment pour from every door,
and find a little help along the way.
Where legal precedent meets Mersey Beat,
come tramp the straight and long, unlovely street.
Categories:
easements, london,
Form: Sonnet
I watched the T.V. late last night,
and watched corporate Nazi's try to explain
their plight.
Cheshire, dollar grinning C.E.O.'s
justified moving from the cities
that paid their bills.
Tax breaks, easements, incentives
and local blood were not enough
to keep them in the neighborhood.
I watched the T.V. late last night,
heard the catch in the throat of some
kindly corporate chief that regretted
letting go of some of his old friends in the ranks.
But this is war and you know
scorched earth and torture help
the "fittest" show a profit.
"Heil" to the fourth!
Announce it loud and clear.
From Nam to Faluja we see
the ghost of Smedley Butler.
They don't need no stinkin' Hitler
and downsized his butt
more than sixty years ago.
I watched the T.V. late last night,
fell asleep and dreamed a bit
of pathetic scheming company types
at some cosmic Nuremburg.
One by one they answer charges with
the same refrain. "It wasn't me. It wasn't me.
I answered to the stockholders.
It's them you need to blame."
Categories:
easements, parody, peace, satire,
Form: Free verse