NEW YORK 1940

THREE WOMEN IN NEW YORK IN 1940 AND THEIR TALK.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Downtown Amsterdam,
New York, three old dames
Stand to talk, Max’s

 

Old man is passing
By, hears the language,
The tales unfolding,

 

The tongues like sharp knives
Cutting the City’s
Scene, bringing down their

 

Neighbours; the young ain’t
Got no respect, old
Mrs Brodsky says,

 

Folding her plump arms,
They think the world’s their
Oyster and the girl’s

 

Short skirts and dresses;
Why if my father
Saw me wear as such,

 

He’d have tanned my hide
As much as look at
Me. And if Mr

 

Roosevelt don’t keep
Us out of that darn
War in Europe those

 

Young boys around here
Are going to have
To fight foreigners

 

Instead of themselves,
Although my husband
Says it’ll come and

 

We’ll be dragged into
The war as we were
Last time, with all that

 

Cost and death. Mrs
Bailey nods her head
And three chins, same as

 

Last time, as you say;
She chips in, her tongue
Exercising the

 

Air, giving Mrs
Stelmens the cold stare.
Max’s old man kneels

 

To tie his lace, turns
Away his face to
Avoid gazing at

 

The legs and asses,
His ears catching their
Further talk and Stef

 

Says, it’s the darn Jews,
Always the Jews, but
I say to him, what’d

 

You know about it,
You know damn nothing,
You hang around bars,

 

You hear the talk, you
Drink it in, you say
Nothing, you’re all ears

 

Like a bloody bat,
And Mrs Brodsky
Smiles and eases out

 

A short silent one
And Mrs Bailey
Rubs her plump hands, coughs

 

And remembers her
Husband’s early dawn
Fumblings, fingers,

 

Wet kisses and looks
Away as Max’s
Old man stands and rubs

 

Imaginary
Dust from his jacket
Sleeve, moves on along

 

The street, the dame’s talk
All gone from him now,
All incomplete, the

 

Old dames standing there,
Like Macbethian
Witches stirring their

 

Tongues with malicious
Spells on foreign wars,
And unless men and
Bad time boys and girls.

Author's Note

PHOTO BY JOHN COLLIER.

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[Terry Collett]

Photo by John Collier. The poem is not about the three women in the photograph, but the photo inspired the poem.