"Only here in New England..."

Only here in New England can you experience

four seasons in a week, hardly leaving your room.

In this small town, a man can become delirious

on a clear night and howl at a half-a-moon.

At the local coffee shop, you can encounter

homeless Harvard graduates, reeking of cheap booze

and recognize Lady Madonna behind the counter

whose concealing makeup covers her nightly bruise.

Here, in the city of clocks, everything is routine,

the postman is never late with your morning paper,

you have no identity, only your shadow’s seen

dragging itself across the oblivious pavement.

It is here that the best years of your life are spent

carelessly, with no concern for your lungs and liver,

still ignoring the fact that your future’s at hand,

skinny dipping with stars in the nearby river.