1193. I WENT TO ELDREDGE

I WENT TO ELDREDGE
I went to Gertle's but it was not there.
I went to Eldredge to see what I could.
Nothing there left but baritone hammer-men
building scaffolds to make a new front and
install new glass. Paint cans abounded while
some old truck rumbled out front. Along
the street, newspapers and rubble. Free
like cats, things all blew along. The winterized
wind was rubbing the panes and the corners.
I hunkered down in my feeble jacket, in
a vain attempt to stay warm. Why now,
and how could they possibly work in this
weather? I went to the Seward Library,
Rutgers Park, the old dairy bar by The
Forward. It too was gone - some Chinese
joint now, big deadened fish swimming
to die, lugubrious in the large, clouded tank.
People eat this stuff, but first they pay.
-
I couldn't remember the streets any
longer. Everything had been taken
away. I wanted to go. I wanted to stay.
Jarmulowsky's Bank? Well, OK.