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Doug Holder

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Last Night At The Wursthaus...
by Doug Holder
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This is a poem dedicated to a famous eatery in Harvard Square that is long gone from the scene.


How I miss

that hush from the Square

the dark oasis

contemplating my beer

as things come to a head.

The ancient waitresses

their surliness an art

bark the orders

through the swing of doors.

And at the bar

scholars of the academy

and everyday scholars of life

share the same expanse of polished wood.

I use to strain

to hear the bits of wisdom

old man Cardullo spit from

his cigar-studded mouth

the rancorous jokes

the cops told

huddled around him

in an enigmatic cabal.

And now

at this same corner

pretty boys on posters

smile,

with hardened torsos

and I am swept away

to wherever ... the crowd goes.


 


* Published in the Ibbetson Street Press




 

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Reviewed by ya mama (Reader)
aaah. harvard square! is lee's diner still around?
Reviewed by elois Masters (Reader)
Ahhh. I remember the Wursthaus. One of the last vestiges of "old Harvard Sq." Nice poem. Why so much space for the words though? Feels disruptive to me. I'm not sure the snap shot imagery works for me. But thanks for the memory and kudos to the ibbson st. press.
Reviewed by na na (Reader)
Doug, sounds like a fun place you go. Do you still go? Liked the atmosphere. Bill
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
We all need a place like that.
Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
Sounds like a fun place and just like a place in Georgetown I know. Well done.
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader)
Excellent tribute this one
Peggy
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