golden age

let us take a moment
of good hardy memory
to rearrange remains
of snaggletoothed
egg-carton goblins,
eyeless and lidded
in the vanguard,
ravaged by a sortie
with green plastic men
(each elevated by a
flash new digital camera
lens), who had them-
selves been out to
recover a tank engine
that derailed in a mud
puddle under a swing,
and be thankful that
once upon a time it was
the year two-thousand
and that while we drew
in pencil we wrote in pen.