Keystone Cops and Berlnageur Hides.
This small, incessant showmanship keeps
the theatre alive : here, in a little Hudson town,
on a little Hudson ridge, where the cars cannot
be parked overnight, nor the Italian Cafe thrive.
I've heard tell how they commandeered this
town once, to film 'the Purple Rose of Cairo.' I'm
thinking that must have been nice. A spotlight,
right now, scans the Tappan Zee sky for something.
Off to the distance, almost far away, the big city's
midnight lights are doubling on the water. On
the other shore, a Metro North train, or a Hudson
Valley Line train, slides by in silence. I can
never know the difference between the two.