Month: July 2012

The Lost and Forgotten

Working Class Generation.

We who left school in 1968 without

Honours and degrees, had dreams when

We filled factories and building sites

With youthful laughter which soon

Stopped when run over by the juggernaut

Of life, marriage and a high rise flat.

Later when work dried up, no skills no

Education and too old for a new job,

Divorce, queuing at the dole a flight

Into booze, walking the streets of rue,

Fuck it all and waiting for tomorrow.

Lady of Mercy, only one dream left,

That of coming up on the pool, quid’s

In, a round of drinks for the mates in

The pub and self-respect; we know it

Won’t happen but dream we must, or

Be flotsam in streets of regrets where

It’s always gloomy and eyes have lost

The sheen of hope.

***

——————————————————————————–

Camouflaged in gray and white,
she lay amongst mismatched gloves.
Two mittens stroked pawing fingers,
until the warmth of a friend
seemed more important
than the thrill of a sleigh ride.

***

everybody writes such neat stuff
about addicts in checkered alleys
who touched the moon.
and a whore in hight heels
limping badly
one heel broken
and sticks and straws and snot
and purple poison sniffed in sacks
of rooms without furniture
and bugs
and sex
but though I try
I can only think of heros

***

Linda Straub
Homecoming

It was a pink cotton dress
patterned with white daisies,
sleeveless with spagetti straps
that slid off the shoulders
like children who can’t sit still.

It was a navy blue uniform
with seargant’s stripes
and an adjustable belt
anchored on a slim waist,
below the purple heart.

It was a July day in 1969
at a suburban train station
outside of Philadelphia;
no longer “in country”,
now steppin’ on American soil.

It was a white corvair
with red bucket seats
and Dylan on the radio,
each turned up high
and playing for peace.

It was a warrior and his woman
driving by the school yard
where the band played,
but there was no parade–
just two hands exploring.

Linda Straub

***