In the city's streets
Cars bought with loans-
Second-hand,third-hand models,
Number two cars
Soared in number.
Parkings sprawled into
The hearts of the roads.
E- rickshaw halt
Blocking the paths.
Women vegetable vendors
Occupy the footpaths.
Traffic police are busy
Qualling quarrels between
Auto rickshaw drivers
And woman vendors.
Police constable lurk
For bribes in the shadows.
The goverment and people
Go their ways often
Ignoring the rules.
A chaotic dance
For all to see.
This is the plight
Of my city.
(Depended on a local newspaper in writting this poem)
Forty years, Granddad had store.
Sold meat, ice cream, dry goods.
Meats made mighty fine sandwich.
He was old, bent over still
Doing his carving craft.
Had long-time customers. Some my
Dad delivered to them in his truck.
One customer Peg became Dad's lover
And second wife of seven. I loved her.
In winter Granddad sold Christmas trees.
All year long, I got a popcycle treat
And a quarter for a movie and popcorn.
The theatre was just down the street.
University town - Newark, Delaware.
Gram did bookkeeping while I read.
He also sold Pepperidge Farm bread.
When old, white building was torn
Down, became parkings spaces for
The University. A picture and an
Article in paper, I have in a box.
When I grew older had bagels with
Cream cheese, red onion and lox.
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