Sunday, August 31, 2014

Poetry Sunday

This poem reminds me of the great Bruce Springsteen song, "My Hometown" ...

Beans and Franks
by Donald Hall

            When Newberry's closed
in Franklin, New Hampshire—homely lime front
            on Main Street, among the closed
storefronts of this mill town depressed
            since nineteen twenty-nine;
with its lunch counter for beans and franks
            and coleslaw; with its
bins of peanuts, counters of acrylic,
            hair nets, underwear, workshirts,
marbled notebooks, Bic pens, plastic
            toys, and cheap sneakers;
where Marjorie worked ten years at the iron
            cash register, Alcibide
Monbouquet pushed a broom at night.
            and Mr. Smith managed—
we learned that a man from Beverly
            Hills owned it, who never saw
the streets of Franklin, New Hampshire,
            and drew with a well-groomed hand
a line through "Franklin, New Hampshire."

Times change.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.



eViL pOp TaRt said...

Very elegiac and sad. It conveys effectively the mood of small town changes.

Grand Crapaud said...

Sometimes changes are due to people who are far removed from its effects.

Elvis Wearing a Bra on His Head said...

Nice poem.

Mike said...

It's now the Dollar Store minus the lunch counter.

Anemone said...

I enjoyed the poem.

Big Sky Heidi said...

And people miss the old counter.