Monday, October 20, 2025

Peter M. Gordon

THE DEUCE - 1978

How I miss that drug dealer chorus chanting, “Acid and grass,”
all wearing black suits, sunglasses, fedoras, occupying every doorway
between Seventh and Eighth Aves. Tongues darted between teeth

like snakes trying to mesmerize me into buying their wares. Women next
to them wore bright, tight shorts, low cut blouses, in orange, hot pink, red,
to stand out from bustling crowd, cries of “want a date?” brassy trumpets

to pimp’s baritone sax helped create the symphony, along with car horns,
calls from strip club touts, “Twenty girls, no cover charge!” punctuated
by beat of walking feet. In the thirties, the song sang Forty-Second Street

was where underworld met the elite. Moviegoers from then would have
been stunned to see theater marquees offer martial arts double bills
or straight porn like Horny Stewardesses, a triple X delight, lines of furtive

men in dark glasses, hats low, lined up to buy tickets. Block between
Seventh and Eighth Aves always mobbed with people, some commuters
walking the shortest, most dangerous route to Port Authority,

tourists with cameras slung around necks wondering what went wrong
  with their guidebook, con men seeking their next mark. Once plain
clothes cops arrested a dealer three feet in front of me, shoved

him up against a wall to frisk, just like in the movies. They pulled
  a .22 handgun out of his pocket, while I gaped but most of the crowd
kept walking. Why did I love it so? Why does the toreador confront

the bull? Those dens of vice gone now, replaced with legitimate
Broadway theatres and first run films; even a Madam Tussaud’s
Wax Museum. The Lion King plays at Seventh and Forty-Second Street

in a theatre once owned by Flo Ziegfeld, now restored. Today’s ripoffs
limited to overpriced pretzels and ‘I Love New York’ tee shirts. I sip decaf
in my Florida kitchen, feeling nostalgic about long-ago bravado,

my walk past bums, whores, drug dealers, junkies, pimps, runaways,
and realize I never lifted a finger to help any of them. I did not see them
as people; they were just part of the show. Guess I was a tourist after all.


Peter's YouTube reading of "The Deuce - 1978"


Peter confesses: "I was watching Taxi Driver on cable and was struck by the thought that young people watching it today might think the film's view of New York in the seventies was a fantasy, made up just for movies. That made me reflect on my experiences on 42nd Street during those years, and why I kept going back there."


PETER M. GORDON is an award-winning poet with over 180 poems published in various magazines and websites, He's authored three collections, and his latest is Middle Age Spread, available on amazon.com. Peter founded Orlando Area Poets, and is involved in several other poetry groups. He teaches in Full Sail University's Film Production MFA program.

No comments: