Old Atlantic City


Like Phoenix rising from rubble, Pegasus ruled the day.

A majestic white steed dove off the steeplechase

and plunged into the cerulean sea.


A crimson sun baked bathers

who picked sand off their picnic lunch.

Salt water taffy stuck to their teeth

as hawkers with steaming dry ice delivered

frozen popsicles when you waved your hand.


Wicker jinrikishas rolled along,

passengers ogling barefoot jitterbuggers

dancing to a boogie woogie beat.

Pink panties flashed as frenzied Dervishes whirled.


Jumping and jiving, drunken jackhammers,

strutting their stuff with acrobatic

flips and twirls of the Lindy.

bouncing in perpetual motion.

Their titillating vibrations tingled the bones

as Hit Parade tunes played in a solid bass timbre.


Juke box platters plopped:

“Put another nickel in…” “ Hut sut ralson sittin on

a rivera and a bralla bralla suet…” “Flat foot floozy

and a floy floy…” The Andrew Sisters belted: ”By mir bist du sheyn…”

Kay Kaiser and his College of Musical Knowledge

featured the antics of Ish Kabibble.


“Goombas” came from Bensonhurst and South Philly,

zoot suits fresh from the cleaners,

duck’s ass haircuts and pompadours combed,

scouring the boardwalk for broads who knew how to boogie.


Milton P. Ehrlich