The Maxwell's I Remember
 
before Bruce
before microbrew
before brats
with little alligators
on their shirts
ever polluted
the scene,
maxwell's
had the best
pool table in town
and every patron
smelled of sweaty
coffee grinds
from the factory
down the block.

now the perfume
of inheritance
fouls the air
and the working man
is remembered
in a museum
next to the old
red fire trucks
rusting in the sun.


NEW EDITION INDEX

MORE POEMS

(C) Copyright 2000
Mark Antony Rossi
All Rights Reserved