Spirit of the Thirties

A brilliant future you could not believe

was actually possible

at any other time but now

being chief among the miracles

of day drinking with friends abroad.

Everyone bearing a gift in themselves

that is themselves, their talents

bristling, obvious, angular — an art

of what is possible — a future

that is heaven, realizable

in a Paris more Paris than Paris

and everyone bearing a gift

extractable, bright and shining

south to the coast in an open car

untouched by what we in retrospect

call mediocrity. In awe you lead

each other to the ziggurat

of aluminum, proudly unknowing

that the drumbeat signalled

your human sacrifice, as everyone

on arrival bears their gift — the future

angular, bright and obvious

extracted from you.