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.
Bilbo
6 comments:
Very elegiac and sad. It conveys effectively the mood of small town changes.
Sometimes changes are due to people who are far removed from its effects.
Nice poem.
It's now the Dollar Store minus the lunch counter.
I enjoyed the poem.
And people miss the old counter.
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