Fifty Years of American Poetry Anniversary Volume for the Academy of American Poets

X.J. KENNEDY (1929-) In a Prominent Bar in Secaucus One Day (1961) To the tune of "The Old Orange Flute" or the tune of "Sweet Betsy from Pike" In a prominent bar in Secaucus one day Rose a lady in skunk with a topheavy sway, Raised a knobby red finger--all turned from their beer-- While with eyes bright as snowcrust she sang high and clear: 'Now who of you'd think from an eyeload of me That I once was a lady as proud as could be? Oh I'd never sit down by a tumbledown drunk If it wasn't, my dears, for the high cost of junk. 'All the gents used to swear that the white of my calf Beat the down of the swan by a length and a half. In the kerchief of linen I caught to my nose Ah, there never fell snot, but a little gold rose. 'I had seven gold teeth and a toothpick of gold, My Virginia cheroot was a leaf of it rolled And I'd light it each time with a thousand in cash-- Why the bums used to fight if I flicked them an ash. 'Once the toast of the Biltmore, the belle of the Taft, I would drink bottle beer at the Drake, never draft, And dine at the Astor on Salisbury steak With a clean tablecloth for each bite I did take. 'In a car like the Roxy I'd roll to the track, A steel-guitar trio, a bar in the back, And the wheels made no noise, they turned over so fast, Still it took you ten minutes to see me go past. 'When the horses bowed down to me that I might choose, I bet on them all, for I hated to lose. Now I'm saddled each night for my butter and eggs And the broken threads race down the backs of my legs. 'Let you hold in mind, girls, that your beauty must pass Like a lovely white clover that rusts with its grass. Keep your bottoms off barstools and marry you young Or be left--an old barrel with many a bung. 'For when time takes you out for a spin in his car You'll be hard-pressed to stop him from going too far And be left by the roadsite, for all your good deeds, Two toadstools for tits and a face full of weeds.' All the house raised a cheer, but the man at the bar Made a phonecall and up pulled a red patrol car And she blew us a kiss as they copped her away From that prominent bar in Secaucus, NJ. ROBERT NATHAN (1894-) Now Blue October (1950) Now blue October, smoky in the sun, Must end the long, sweet summer of the heart. The last brief visit of the birds is done; They sing the autumn songs before they part. Listen, how lovely--there's the thrush we heard When June was small with roses, and the bending Blossom of branches covered nest and bird, Singing the summer in, summer unending-- Give me your hand once more before the night; See how the meadows darken with the frost, How fades the green that was the summer's light. Beauty is only altered, never lost And love, before the cold November rain, Will make its summer in the heart again. JOHN UPDIKE (1932-) Telephone Poles (1963) They have been with us a long time. They will outlast the elms. Our eyes, like the eyes of a savage sieving the trees In his search for game, Run through them. They blend along small-town streets Like a race of giants that have faded into mere mythology. Our eyes, washed clean of belief, Lift incredulous to their fearsome crowns of bolts, trusses, struts, nuts, insulators, and such Barnacles as compose These weathered encrustations of electrical debris-- Each a Gorgon's head, which, seized right, Could stun us to stone. Yet they are ours. We made them. See here, where the cleats of linemen Have roughened a second bark Onto the bald trunk. And these spikes Have been driven sideways at intervals handy for human legs. The Nature of our construction is in every way A better fit than the Nature it displAcademy of American Poets Staff is the author of 'Fifty Years of American Poetry Anniversary Volume for the Academy of American Poets', published 1995 under ISBN 9780440218777 and ISBN 0440218772.