Poem: American Idle

Way back in 1929
It wasn’t odd to see a line
Of men in hats with brims down low
Collars up so folks won’t know

They needed work, out on the street
Some even had to beg to eat
And now depression’s back again
The hats have changed, so have the men

Instead of wearing down their shoes
Most drive to their job interviews
Sad faces behind windshield glass
They blend in with the working class

The highway lets them still belong
While cruising to an Eagles song
Now even that joy might be lost
As drivers struggle with the cost

Of filling tanks with gasoline
Those unemployed may soon be seen
Behind the wheel parked at the curb
Running on empty, do not disturb


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Political Poet

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