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Picturesby John Kentis still there, just the frame... the buildings still sag. Up there, around 137th Street and Broadway. The faces are gone and the RKO Hamilton Theater; of course the trolleys, the tracks still linger. Up on Amsterdam Avenue, the Washington Theater is gone, where you could see two movies, five cartoons, a chapter, an animated horse race; you got your numbered ticket at the door, if your horse came in... a stash of free candy, soda; four hours of dreams...screams, at a Saturday matinee. The park is smaller, the streets narrower, the concrete islands that parted Broadway, with their shrubs, paths, benches, are still there... only the shrubs remain. The hill that takes blocks of buildings, from Broadway down to Riverside Drive, is shabby now, uptown; poverty more noticeable now. The Fifth Avenue Company buses, those double deck green and whites, that leaned precariously when making stops...gone, to where things go, when they die. The old elementary school is still there, five floors of aches and pains. No trace of Bickford's cafeteria, or Thom McCan's, where my mother always bought my shoes for school; always made sure I looked nice for the fall term. My mother was young, strong, She sparkled. My mother is gone... |
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