May Gumbytron heap blessings on you and yours

the parking Nazi pulls out her ticket pad
in anticipation of red flags popping up like poppies
to the music of the Carousel repeating in the distancethe Greek slings his Tadziki and Falafel near the corner,
his line of customers often three or four deep.
seems like the only thing recognizable as food
beneath the Christmas lights

there used to be trolleys
running the length of Main
but they were all pulled up long ago
a lot of the buildings still stand
they make a feeble attempt at a downtown

just a husk,
the Gazebo in the park is lost in ghost whispers
of yesterday

a panel truck makes a delivery at the Mechanics Bank
like it has every day for the last forty of fifty years
some things don’t change

there used to be two Coney Islands downtown
a paradox that no one seemed to notice in Mantucky growing up
we believed we were immortal
would do anything, try anything for a good time
in Jimmy’s Lounge at 16 and 17
eating and drinking whatever came our way

just husks, now, like downtown
seed all shriveled up and dry and blown across the wind
seeing the promise
(more like the lie that we believed)
in younger eyes

how would they know?
no one talks about it any more
let them keep their dreams
while they last

to dream again
and not soak our livers
in rivers of whiskey and drugs

to breathe again
like taking the a breath in cold December

if only…