But they were good,
Those Perry-Mason rerun nights
With slightly burnt aluminum-clad dinners—
The smooth, chemical-tasting potatoes
That coated your tongue,
Leathery beef with tomatoes, and
Oh! the dessert, the sweet chalky pudding!
Perry addressed the court, pointed out
The real killer, who always tried to run!
The cop’s meaty hands
Grabbed him at the door,and
We gave our trays to Sam, the beagle,
who licked them each in turn.
Journals publishing Janet McCann’s poetry include Kansas Quarterly, Parnassus, Nimrod, Sou’wester, New York Quarterly, Tendril, Poetry, Australia, etc. A 1989 NEA Creative Writing Fellowship winner, McCann has taught at Texas A & M University since 1969. Most recent collection: The Crone at the Casino, Lamar U. P., 2013.
This poems really brings home the feel of the 50s; I can almost taste those rubbery green beans (my least favorite part of the dinner) now!
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