The 5th Dimension
Last night she didn't get to sleep at all:
That pill she took was just a waste of time.
A jukebox gives me her transcendent voice
For just a quarter. Or is it a dime?
I'm still quite young. My yearning nerves rejoice
To hear the mellow (slightly maudlin) tune
That Marilyn sings of someone she might call,
Of wakeful darkness, of the yawning moon.
Those blushing days of AM radio!
Of Nixon, Agnew, Watergate, and Ford---
Names found in newspapers, which I ignored.
Unsullied innocence! Where did it go?
Lost like autumn leaves.
I’ve found the song
On YouTube. Has it really been that long?
Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas
Read 78 times
Written on 2018-04-16 at 16:56
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