The old town,
Oesophagus of Main Street,
I am swallowed down,
And for it, my chosen ode,
Let's do the time warp again,
The yellow paint eroding,
Peeling right off the courthouse walls;
Cobwebs cover the judge's gaval
Because there are no killers standing in the halls,
The trials just concern unpaid bills and tickets,
Because it is such a fine, lovely village,
Without any crime, trouble or pillage,
Tuesdays on Main Street -
Hear the pins drop
Or just listen to the sound of the crickets.


-Jamie F. Nugent