The Carlisle Mosquito Online

Friday, August 17, 2001


Diggin' the City Scene

Hot city night, electric and thrilling,

Like a drunken, unbound whirligig.

I'm drawn to its vortex, ready and willing,

If I can just get by the Big Dig.

Jangled streets all twisted and turned,

Transforming downtown into a jungle.

New on-ramps and exits that have to be learned,

More decisions for me to bungle.

Above, cabled stanchions soar to the sky,

A landmark fast in the making.

Down here I simply try to get by

A detour the workmen are staking.

Poker-red jazz wafts from the harbor;

My destination is easily heard.

Now tapping the horn with unrestrained ardor,

Nearby drivers just flip me the bird.

I circle left to fill in a gap,

There's hope around the next bend.

But too late I learn it's only a trap,

That street's now a bleeping dead end.

Abandoning hope of making some headway,

I park in an unlighted alley.

Racing ten blocks to my seat (which cost a week's pay),

I'm in time to catch the finale.

Someday this tarred landscape will bloom into grass,

Traffic flowing below out of sight.

'Til then we'll all suffer this steamy morass,

Of potholes and dump trucks and blight.

So take my advice if you're soon city bound,

Be carefree, and don't give a fig,

Take the T, unless you want to be found,

One more victim of the Big Dig.


Rick Blum

+YEAR+ The Carlisle Mosquito