{"id":50567,"date":"2019-06-22T15:34:39","date_gmt":"2019-06-22T19:34:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=50567"},"modified":"2019-06-22T17:25:26","modified_gmt":"2019-06-22T21:25:26","slug":"grand-avenue","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2019\/06\/grand-avenue\/","title":{"rendered":"Grand Avenue"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>A friend of mine moved from an apartment we both lived in &#8211; but consecutively &#8211;<br \/>\nTo her mother&#8217;s home in the suburbs<br \/>\nWhile awaiting one of a sequence of<br \/>\nRescheduled surgeries.<\/p>\n<p>She fell<br \/>\nGetting off of a bus on Grand Avenue<br \/>\nWith its warped surface that scuffs loafers<br \/>\nAnd trips worn out sneakers<br \/>\nWith equal disregard.<\/p>\n<p>Grand Avenue has some old beauties, but was<br \/>\nMainly the dividing line between which side of downtown had money and which side was just<br \/>\nWaiting to go to the East side.<\/p>\n<p>As I wait for a bus,<br \/>\nAn older lady sits cross-legged on the pavement. In the 50s, Grand Aenue&#8217;s heyday, she would have worn a dress and fretted into<br \/>\nA damp handkerchief.<\/p>\n<p>Carrying my market bag, I, too, if I had been walking down Grand Avenue in the &#8217;50s, would have resembled a McCalls dress pattern cover, if slightly wilted by June mimicking July.<\/p>\n<p>Grand Avenue&#8217;s glamour is faded and a shirtless man whose tattoos settle into the creases of his aged flesh spits on the other side of the street<\/p>\n<p>Another poet, maybe Ginsberg, would give prayers the Grand Avenue&#8217;s lost.<\/p>\n<p>I get on my bus, rebuking myself for paying another fare, forgetting I still<br \/>\nHad time on my transfer.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A friend of mine moved from an apartment we both lived in &#8211; but consecutively &#8211; To her mother&#8217;s home in the suburbs While awaiting one of a sequence of Rescheduled surgeries. She fell Getting off of a bus on Grand Avenue With its warped&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":59,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-50567","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50567","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/59"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=50567"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50567\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":51618,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50567\/revisions\/51618"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=50567"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=50567"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=50567"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}