Back To The 70s Poem by jackilton peachum

BACK TO THE ‘70s
(Smith's Bar & Grill: NYC)

Café-au-lait, the bar-mistress.
She wears a white blouse embossed with the name of the establishment, pulls the taps with an expert touch, pushes the beer across.
A light up, she flicks her Bic, pauses for talk.
'Back durin' an' after World War Two, I was in th' USO--
toured Canada an' Alaska- went to Britain, France, Belgium--. Hell, I even got as far as Manila once! Met Bob Hope, Francis Langford, Ethel Merman--! '
A wise-acre at the end of the bar:
'Hey, wait a minute- ain'tchoo black? Ain'tchoo a Nigra? Gummint didn't ‘low no black folks in USO them days! '
She pauses again, lifts her head, smokes and smiles parting red lips proudly, 'Shoo! Honey- I puts on a blonde wig an' went right along with ‘em! '
Outdoors, Spring twilight lingers but a minute, hops into darkness.
The hour ticks. Lights on Yellow Cabs go by the windows, turn over to 42nd.
Traffic hum and a momentary hush-- the street reveals to itself the beauty of the evening