AT THE CORNER
I was still pretty young, and it was
August, '67. A hundred years past
the Civil War, and there I was, right
where the Draft Riots had been. July
of 1863, right over there. I must have
been something. And then, that other
riot, the crazy one over, the Astor Place
Riot, of 1849 - that too was quite a
mess, and it happened right over there.
-
Forgive me, but I felt dizzy. The things
that used to rile people - now would
have but a supple effect on the ways
and the wounds of the wounded. Diners
yet dine, and strollers yet stroll.
-
I was watching the girls and, I remember,
I couldn't believe their states of undress.
Nearly, And the fashionable pillions of
majesty's blush? Nowhere to be seen.
Modesty had escaped with virtue.
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