A
Poem in
The Meeting Brownlee Anthology
The 70's are best forgotten.
Loch Ness Monster Rayon Jump Suits.
Clapper clog feet ringing rebellion in bell bottoms.
Mini skirts for those lunchtime quickies.
Arrogant ill-fitting collars.
The 70's are best erased.
Decade like a 60's hangover,
Smoking reefer out in the schoolyard. Insight in a Ziploc.
Quaaludes in the hall.
Nitrogen Carts for that five minute buzz, when you're the
designated driver.
The 70's are best as dust.
Ford on the Warren Commission.
Carter playing the inflation game, like there's a prize for a high score.
With gas prices pumping, immobility is where it's at.
"Where'm I going, man? Wallstreet. I hear Reagan's junk bonding it in gold!"