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.