Article & Journal Resources

by Cornelius Eady



The town near our house

Isn’t fancy, but it is ripe.

At present, it is still on

The wrong side of

The Hudson River,

But there’s potential.

What happened

In Woodstock,

What happened

In Red Hook,

What’s happening

In Catskill,

Could easily

Happen here.

Our streets are sad

In the way our bodies

Are sad as we

Dream of our

Beautiful selves,

Floating, light,

Light-filled,

Transcendent.

How could anyone

Have missed or

Overlooked us,

Even with our

Bad haircuts,

Our paunchy clothes,

Our gin-mill

Mouths?

One day

Some car drives by

And the rich folk

Who hunt for

Cut-rate rubies

Slow down,

And here we are,

They think,

All ready to be

Scrubbed.