This poem is about a man
Who always had a reason
For being unhappy.
...
They were the cheated generation:
Young between two wars
Then trapped in promises
Of better times to come,
...
Old age is
When the winter is never-ending
And bones groan through
...
If Shakespeare died today
would the lights of Broadway
be lowered
and the BBC World Service
...
This is the city of which we sang,
Of which we were encouraged to dream,
For which our hearts each missed a beat
As we thought of the mushroom clouds.
...
lipstick, smug,
superior,
a fixed expression
on her unresourceful face,
...
Can't spell?
Can't speak?
Why not teach English
To the meek?
...
They stripped me down beyond bare essentials -
Even now I can't tell the new from the old -
Dressed me in the finest green and black livery
...
I dreamed of the snowmaiden,
white and soft,
of endless warmth
...
The season of butterflies is the season of dragonflies
Hovering in a breeze that controls their fate.
Seen like that, trying to keep control, but edging forward,
...