House On Morgan Street Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

In times of economic depression
politicians take to the hustings
bellowing out promises
that entice and evaporate
upon election to office
they never do save us
from the wolves that roam
fleecing the sheep
yet we chombalones buy into
their sophistry every time

We knew nothing about all that
we were kids then and we climbed
with wild abandon dog-leg staircases
hanging suspended in mid-air
to leap from crossbeam
to crossbeam defying gravity
in the shell of the empty building
on Morgan Street

Blue sky visible overhead
against unfinished transoms
of an invisible rooftop
three storys up
window casements open
to random winds that blow
dust and old wood shavings
on our heads

Like that empty building
deserted and abandoned
we too were remnants
of a great depression
that had ravaged the land