New Jersey cops in summer
On New Jersey highways
Have been chosen for something.
You see them, as you may look at clouds
In the midst of July,
With motors about
And the leaves of New Jersey trees.
One can go mad for New Jersey
With its careful selection
Of cops and clouds,
Motors, leaves and trees.
Was there ever a more selecting state?
Just think, it has selected gasoline
To have in it, in summer—
Even though it makes you, or may, kind of sick.
How long will New Jersey go on selecting?
What is New Jersey?
Ah, New Jersey motors, you are fine,
You throb in the summer air.
You pass the New Jersey pine,
You go towards Connecticut where
Again, there are cops and gasoline.
Was such an arrangement ever seen
Before? Yes, between Minnesota and Michigan.
Again, gasoline, cops, clouds,
And summer air and summer blue.
Michigan air and blue.
A presence and absence of crowds,
A man walking in summer alone.
The motory summer tone,
The summer of Connecticut.
Reality seems open and shut.
Ah, selecting New Jersey, selecting Connecticut.
Summer Minnesota, summer Michigan.
From Hail, American Development (Definition Press)
© 1957, 1968