The flames reflected in the faces we drove past:
they saw two good lookers on a holiday.
We rode up to Bay City, along the lakes, all over Chicago.
Why the hell not? We’re young.
Got a pass to see the World’s Fair,
girls wrapped up in ice cubes, midgets,
General Balbo & his twenty-four seaplanes
all the way from Rome. Fan dances. Sky ride.
We ate while sitting on a beach most all the time.
Motor courts, long & dreamless sleeps.
We didn’t listen to the news
or much outside.
We laughed like hell, I sang some,
Bonnie rhymed.
I grieve that my old ma & pa have never felt as free.