The Boston Evening Transcript
by T.S. Elliot
Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.
When evening quickens faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning
Wearily as one would turn to nod goodbye to Rouchefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at the end o the street,
And I say,"Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript."
Here's something i dug..Why? My kick is to read the newspaper. Briefly, I am master of the universe. Sometimes I see the patterns that forecast the future. Can you imagine me there doing that/ Here Elliot tells it but couched in a Sgt. Pepper-like sepia recollection. I think the readers of Evening papers were middle class, an upper. While morning papers were for working people.
But to 'sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn'' that could be people reading papers on the trolley on way home from work. that takes me back too. When I went to journalism school they told us to watch the people as they read the paper on the subway. and i did. And there was the game within the game.
My blog is called Moon Traveller Herald, which is a riff on the Boston Herald Traveller (aka Boston Herald Traveller Record American) - and here w e have the Evening Transcript.
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