Trickle Down

you cease to smell the steel plant after you've lived here for a while smoke is snow or ash or leaves that blow through the air aloft and all the houses trim their siding to the same soot grey style and we hang our laundry out on sundays when they turn the furnaces off and everybodys' daddy works up on the line the Steinbrenners and the Wuchevskies have been here the longest time and everybody's mommy squints into the sun sunday afternoon after all the laundys done sometimes a distant siren can set a dog to barking late at night and then it dominoes on down til every dog is joining in and the first tremors of the lay-offs sing like a distant siren light and we all perked up our ears and paced the fence of the ensuing den and every night were glued to the tv news at six o'clock cuz it was hard to tell what was real and what was dark and they explained about the cutbacks all with earnest frowns but what they didn't say was that the plant was slowly shutting down this town is not the kind of place that money people rule they make their jokes up on the tv about all the snow and they're building condos down river from where the plant had been but nobody really lives here now that the air is clean and the president assured us that it was all gonna trickle down like it'd be raining so much money that we'd be sad to see the sun mr. wuchevsky's brother had some business out in denver so they left town everybody knows they were the lucky ones you cease to smell the steel plant after you've lived here for a while Back To Site