The lamp post is a cast iron pole with a light on top and it stands on the corner and it lights the street. That is the job. The lamp post has been doing the job since 1880 and the lamp post has never called in sick. The lamp post is the most reliable employee the city ever hired.

The old lamp posts were ornate. Fluted columns. Scrollwork at the base. A crown at the top where the light sat. The lamp post was not just functional. The lamp post was decorative. The city wanted its streets lit and it wanted them lit beautifully. The new lamp posts are aluminum poles with a light bolted on top. The new lamp post does the job. The old lamp post did the job with style.

I leaned against a lamp post on St. Marks Place and played guitar. The lamp post was my backrest and my anchor. I stood in the circle of light and the audience gathered in the dark and the lamp post drew the boundary. Inside the light was the stage. Outside the light was the audience. The lamp post was the spotlight of the street performer. The lamp post did not charge for the venue.

Dogs use the lamp post. Everyone knows this. The lamp post is the newspaper of the dog world. Every dog reads it and every dog contributes to it. The lamp post is the most democratic publication in the city. No editorial board. No subscription. No censorship. The dog posts and the next dog reads and that is journalism at its purest.

The lamp post will outlast us all. The lamp post was here before the automobile and it will be here after the automobile. The lamp post does not care what walks beneath it. Horse. Car. Bicycle. Pedestrian. The lamp post lights whatever is there. The lamp post does not have an opinion about progress. The lamp post has a job and the job is light and the light does not judge.

See also: Gaslight, Streetlight