
“New Year’s Eve 2015” by Phil Strang
the ball came down
in New York town
and in that moment
something did stop
mass exultations
of jubilant noise
arose in a rain of
small multi-hued
cut paper strips
scraps of time
bits of life with
each fluttering
piece bearing
imprint of words
a recounting of
all that occurred
round the world
in one infinitesimal
fraction of one
single second
belonged to the
old year now gone
confetti come
carrying messages
purposeful
swirled in descent
from a lesser god’s
hand sent upon
the cold city in
clock-light of midnight
each tiny torn
slip a memento
of everything now
done and dead
fleet reminders
flat warnings
so served as to
never repeat the
worst bits of men’s
yester-deeds
who among
dancing drunk
revelers might
deign to bother
to pick up and
read even one
to take note
to acknowledge
that every
tomorrow in
every new year
wants the same
namely something
quite different
some something
that’s nobler
in every way
better by far
than before
the ball came down
in New York town
and in that moment
something did start
From my book Onionskin
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