Sunday morning in G-d’s square mile
Trying to think of something worthwhile
To turn into music and words
But no muse is making herself heard.
Weekend bikers talkin’ ‘bout their hogs
Singles parading by with their dogs
Ls, Gs, and BTQs feeling loose in town
I sit at the Grind and write it all down.
Directionless musings about this little scene
Why does it matter, and what does it mean?
Ultimately it matters not one bit
I put it on paper ‘cause the words seem to fit.
An older lady admires my antics
She thinks I’m a poet. Now isn’t that romantic.
A familiar face floats by and barely says hi
And then keeps on floating as I raise my eyes.
Sunday in the Grove, people should be in church
But plenty of folks on the avenue perch
As they roll out of their little B&Bs and inns
And I just watch and take it all in.
Directionless musings ...
Nothing on this street is moving my soul
Nothing to rock, nothing to roll
Just people with nothing to say as they talk
And nowhere to go as they mindlessly walk.
I got stuff to do, appointments to keep
Can’t doodle or dawdle, or lounge about or sleep
I guess I’ll get moving and get on with my day
And maybe I’ll find something meaningful to say.
Directionless musings ...
©2024 The Hesh Inc.
I lived in Ocean Grove, New Jersey from 1997 through 1999. It was a halcyon era second only to my time living in a "bubble" in Atlantic Highlands some seven years prior, and it ended all too soon when it really could have gone on for several more years easily.
Ocean Grove is known as "G-d's Square Mile" because of its Methodist camp-meeting origins. (It is also known as "Ocean Grave," but that's another story.) Because of the Bible belief of its founders, many of its streets and landmarks have biblical (i.e., Hebrew) names, but because of said founders' deep-rooted antisemitic biases, bona fide Hebrew speakers such as myself were historically prevented from buying or renting there. However, when I moved there, none of that prejudice was in evidence, even though the town remained as "churchy" as ever, especially on Sundays in the summer when the beach didn't open until noon. Maybe a spirit of tolerance had indeed settled all over the square mile because there was a thriving LGBTQ community there and, publicly at least, everyone seemed to get along without friction.
My favorite part of town, other than the beach (of course), was Main Avenue, the commercial thoroughfare, which was lined with all manner of shops and eateries. Several venues regularly hosted live music, with the performers out on the sidewalks during the warmer months. And I used to love sitting there on mornings such as that described in the lyrics and do my writing.
Like I said ... I should never have left. But bubbles such as these eventually pop, and it's time to move on. I still go back every once in awhile and I'm happy to see it still thriving.
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