Iwama Market

It looms, huge on Rockville Road
between swaying eucalyptus
and darkening fields,

unexpected hulk
of a ruined past.

In better days
girls danced and liquor poured
through its open doors
free as the western wind.

“Hold on tight, boy,
or it’ll knock you over! ”

Back then it was “Bandana Lou’s”
disreputable,
speak-
easy,
fun.

When the wind drops
you can still hear them laughing
through the easy chatter
of honky-tonk.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!