O.C.

there was a time
when route fifty
ran two lanes
in each direction
from the city to
the shore, through
cambridge and kent,
through salisbury,
annapolis. and there
were stops along
the way for pancakes,
or frozen custard,
or bathroom breaks,
the radio up,
the windows down
and the trunk stuffed
with chairs and
clothes, and towels.
you could taste the
salt air long before
you could see
the ocean, the small
town of ocean city,
with it's old boardwalk
full of characters and
bums, families, and
teenagers on the look
out for summer romance.
the food was greasy
and salty, hot and
cheap, the carnivals
ran all night, and
the pinball machines
clanged their bells
in the breezy air.
it was before the
highrises overshadowed
the sand, before
the chain stores came
in. it was all before
we grew up and we could
find a room for twenty
dollars right on
the beach, facing
the ocean, the windows
open and life about
to start.