Old Atlantic City
Like Phoenix rising from rubble, Pegasus ruled the day.
A majestic white steed dove off the steeplechase
and plunged into the cerulean sea.
A crimson sun baked bathers
who picked sand off their picnic lunch.
Salt water taffy stuck to their teeth
as hawkers with steaming dry ice delivered
frozen popsicles when you waved your hand.
Wicker jinrikishas rolled along,
passengers ogling barefoot jitterbuggers
dancing to a boogie woogie beat.
Pink panties flashed as frenzied Dervishes whirled.
Jumping and jiving, drunken jackhammers,
strutting their stuff with acrobatic
flips and twirls of the Lindy.
bouncing in perpetual motion.
Their titillating vibrations tingled the bones
as Hit Parade tunes played in a solid bass timbre.
Juke box platters plopped:
“Put another nickel in…” “ Hut sut ralson sittin on
a rivera and a bralla bralla suet…” “Flat foot floozy
and a floy floy…” The Andrew Sisters belted: ”By mir bist du sheyn…”
Kay Kaiser and his College of Musical Knowledge
featured the antics of Ish Kabibble.
“Goombas” came from Bensonhurst and South Philly,
zoot suits fresh from the cleaners,
duck’s ass haircuts and pompadours combed,
scouring the boardwalk for broads who knew how to boogie.
Milton P. Ehrlich