Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Poem: Laissez-faire



you quarreled with my father

        economists and second cousins


and we never saw you much

       but I remember Paris

             after your latest ski trip

                      you puffed packs of Gaulois

                             touted your prowess


                                        and looked up

                                               each leg




                                                               over the



you had Parisian style

       (I loved your daughter)

           worked for the O.E.C.D.


                        and ended your life

                               a gnome of Basle 



laissez-faire man


            your wife and all your Philadelphia friends

                     were commies once


and you were called

       before the McCarthy Committee

                  set in the box


                        flashbulbs popped

                                         Bobby Kennedy took notes


no, I did not attend a party

        at Mortie Gilbert’s

            Friday, January the First, 1943


                      flashed on a toast

                                   and fainted dead away


                                          and took a job in Paris

                                                 the next day




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