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The floor is cracked and faded, The map is nearly gone. The stained glass roof has shattered Now, fifty years gone down. The fountains at the Unisphere, spray glowing in the dark. Remembering the Flushing fair in Flushing meadow park. In the Vatican Pavilion The Pieta was on display. In the Carousel of Progress The automatons sang and played. I had a plastic brontosaur From Sinclair, I recall. Puppets used to dance and sing “It’s a small world after all.” The displays and the pavilions Now are, mostly, gone. Just the Stainless Unisphere recalls that hopeful dawn. We walked Tomorrow’s though fares Whose horrors weren’t shown. Then I was but a little child- Now fifty years gone down.
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
At the Fair
The floor is cracked and faded, The map is nearly gone. The stained glass roof has shattered Now, fifty years gone down. The fountains at the Unisphere, spray glowing in the dark. Remembering the Flushing fair in Flushing meadow park. In the Vatican Pavilion The Pieta was on display. In the Carousel of Progress The automatons sang and played. I had a plastic brontosaur From Sinclair, I recall. Puppets used to dance and sing “It’s a small world after all.” The displays and the pavilions Now are, mostly, gone. Just the Stainless Unisphere recalls that hopeful dawn. We walked Tomorrow’s though fares Whose horrors weren’t shown. Then I was but a little child- Now fifty years gone down.
Recalling the 64/65 World's Fair
john-f-mccullagh
Written by
63/M/American
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
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