The Evening Globe announces the demise
Of phone booths, 45s, and discothèques.
A Pan Am jet descends the friendly skies
And eases into Logan. Dynamite wrecks
The Hotel Madison, once bright beside
The ratty Boston Garden, Causeway Street.
Crowds of highschoolers jam themselves inside
Arborway's trolley in the late spring heat.
At Barney's Bar & Grill (a block from home)
I hoist a Schaefer or a Löwenbräu.
Pope Paul VI says a High Mass in Rome;
Don Kent’s forecast on ‘BZ tells me how
Time's crafty hand will snatch away and steal
My youth and the Revere Beach ferris wheel.