manny moreno


Ping Pong - Poem by manny moreno

From this center of the universe
in the heart of Livingston where
Twilight Zone can’t bust a grape,
I drive through now and then
for old time’s sake,

but it’s not as it used to be
in the days of Leave it to Beaver,
when ethyl was two-bits a gallon,
a Superman comic a dime,
two-flicks, popcorn and a pop
ran less than a buck at Court Theater,

it’s not as it used to be
when my cousins and I
romped like young deer,
mirroring through time
past mom and pop
storefront windows
like Rexall and the Five and Dime,

when there wasn’t much crime,
when there wasn’t any texting,
when there wasn’t any ATM in any store,
when there wasn’t everyone-and -their- mama
had a cell phone nailed on their ears.

These are different times,
technology and the way
things used-to-be
war with each other,
and we the people
are the ping-pong ball.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Poem Edited: Thursday, January 9, 2014


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