Magpie #70 Bargain Basement Priced

she knew
all the finest
Princeton's elite
would be there
with their penchant
for shiny things
swing shift crew
with strappy new shoes
art deco divas
dream-sicle suited
in Speak Easy dives
tripping
the light
fantastic

into this fast world
the city birthed her
yet she hardly knew
herself with her bobbed-hair
and pouty full lips
yet she did know
all those who thought
they owned a piece of her soul

life would return to her one day
turn around
spin her on her toes
pirouette her around the room
like a Russian princess
this being of lightedness
feather from heaven
never to touch the ground

she held her own
though the weight of it all
would bring her down
she would crash

Appearing ever-so pensive
she'd edge herself closer
to those that meant much
closer to those peopled places
known as the local hang out
with stellar stars all atwirl
flapping in the wind
The Charleston
all society's finest were there
the who's who registry
while they were always busy
like bees in a hive
making small talk lively
making merry chit-chat
making out bigtime mainly
punchbowl talk
would rock her world

she'd sit pretty tonight
choose to ignore the wag
apply her lipstick seductively
she'd listen to the jazz singer
return of investment
never a sure thing

with lapsed attention
she'd feign affection
her many suitors held court
tall the boring conversations
she'd sit motionless
catatonic
while the others
continued to rule the roost
drop names
bandy about
ripe gossip from brandy

At the Speak Easy
Not always that easy
or all what it seemed
to speak quietly
hushed tones
heard on the street
loose change
time for a change
to stay well-connected
the insiders tip
a trick actually
for with all the ruckus goin' on
and the tills kept ringing
she did not care to be there
to question the quality
of the booze she partook

the smokey cigar-filled air
stale and cheap as the bathtub gin
or malt whisky liquor
rum runners with bleary-eyes
persons who's patent ideas for pleasure
all fast Freddie types
in their Model "T's" looked too good
on drunken drives risque boys
gambled with their lives
as all too soon the flame extinguished
consumed by a consumate fire of desire
now all these souls mere shadows
down hallowed halls
on hallowed walls
these hollowed souls; soon peerless

the twenties found them
and she returned in effigy
her fine form
framed again
for the very last time

embraced by a new generation
all who knew her then said
we should have known
what we know now
that one day
we will be
bargain basement priced
"the whole lot for $1.99"

jj

Thank-you Tess Kincaid of Magpie Tales for the inspirational beauty (Zelda? Daisy?) who reminds us to write like F. Scott Fitzgerald on a honeymoon! Or read a book like The Great Gatsby if you think my poem flaps!
http://magpietales.blogspot.com/2011/06/mag-70.html