Mulligan's Tie (poem) by Gerard J. St. John on AuthorsDen

Mulligan's Tie
by Gerard J. St. John → (All Poetry by Gerard J. St. John)
Rated "G" by the Author.

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This verse was written in 1965 to accompany a gaudy orange and purple tie that Mary Kilroy and Janet Toohey purchased for Frank Mulligan on the occasion of Frank leaving his employment at the Redevelopment Authority to attend Temple University School of Law. The original document has been lost over the years. After fifty years, I cannot recall the exact words, but this is a close approximation.
MULLIGAN’S TIE By the curb of far north Broad Street, By the steaming blacktop roadway, At the doorway of the Law School, In the muggy summer morning, Francis Mulligan stood and waited. All the air was slightly noxious. All the earth was less than joyous. And before him, through the smog bank, Westward, toward the neighboring jungle, Passed in motley swarms, the Students, Passed the owls, the money-makers, Weeping, wailing, of their test marks. From the brow of novice Darrow, Gone is every trace of sorrow; As the cop from out the red car, As the con from out of Moko. High above him shines a red light, Orange spread his shoes before him; From our hands received this present, Sparkling, flashing free from fashion.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on November 1, 2014

A lot of images come forth, especially those gaudy ties of the era. I do recall one time driving out of Philly to the north on Broad Street where "law and order" was in place and there were cops on every intersection directing five lanes north with one measly lane going south. One politicians way of improving traffic flow.

Ron