Thursday, December 12, 2013
The Corner of Medford and Sycamore
One corner of Medford and Sycamore.
Had a broken down shack of a variety store;
Luckies were two for a penny then;
Thank God, I couldn’t buy many then;
I’m almost glad I was poor!
But, Somerville, Mass. was really a gas
Before Hitler and Tojo showed up;
Corners at twilight, bread was a nickel
But the world was about to erupt.
Across the street was the corner of choice,
Where the nightly editions lay;
THUD, off the back of a newspaper truck
Quick! How’d the Sox due today?
The cop on the corner of Medford and Sycamore
Was a guy I remember so well
We called him Officer Powers
And he loved us kids, you could tell!
The corner was always crowded
At eight, and again at three;
That’s when kids were coming and going
To the Foster School, you see.
Sometimes our policeman would put up his hand
And ten cars would squeal to a stop
While Officer Powers put some kid on his shoulder
And crossed the street hippity-hop.
About five, or six, as evenings got on
It was the teens and guys time to boast;
Sharing their day, talking about Foxx
And this Williams kid, up from the coast
What might Louis do to Schmeling?
The next time these fighters met;
Could Cronin turn the Sox around?
The older guys said, you bet!”
Did you see who took the sixth today?
Some nag from upstate New York;
Now, if the fix wasn’t in on that one;
I’ll swim back to County Cork.
Then one morning everything stopped
It was Monday, in a cold December;
Pearl Harbor had been bombed, the navy sunk
Would the corner cry, guys get drunk?
Someone said, “We’ll remember!”
Every one of my guys on the corner
Fought somewhere in a foreign land
Half came back, half got killed
Do the new guys understand?