And the young man spoke:
In my little town
I grew up on a sesame street
Where neighbors shared common ground
And big-bird hurts were easily mended
With a catchy tune and a green frog chorus.
In my little town
Nickelodian distracted
With its “Mary Tyler morality
And its Lucy laughter.
I was safe as a fraggle, sound as a doozer.
But the town kept changing.
News told us so.
Presidential cover-ups
Oozing into our “family” room.
Mom coughed in the toxic gloom.
Said she wanted a “living” room.
In my little town
The god-of-the-air-waves evangelized,
Hawking dispondency.
Buy it now while supplies last!
Then came Private Ryan
Where nothing was private and privates were crying.
I saluted plastic-bag flags
Fluttering from branches, skiffing cross vacant lots,
And those guys on the beach?
Small town heroes.
Leaders had no trouble
Sending us off to the bloody sands
Drenched in oil.
No sweat off their greenbacks.
More white markers in grassy fields.
In my little town,
Headphone musik was all the rage.
Didn’t want Dad hearing the lyrics.
Wouldn’t understand
The thunderous, steady drumbeat
The vulgar screams.
They somehow made sense.
Immersed in the noise.
I could drown down
In my little town.
Jody Walker