NOSTALGIA –The Wursthaus Sonnet–

(This is for “Tom O”, who prefers poems with rhyme and rhythm.)

                 THE WURSTHAUS SONNET

As I ghosted through Harvard Square just before dawn,
My old face stretched out by a fracturing yawn,
My thinking was jolted from cravings for toast
For there by the street stood a fat fellow ghost.

A hitchhiking ghost, so I stopped. He got in
And beamed me a totally familiar grin
I couldn’t quite place, though I knew that I knew it.
My memory stirred, and I thought I’d pursue it.

He seemed to know that I needed a nudge.
With a laugh like a shout, he made my brains budge.
As far in the east daylight started to dawn
He asked, “Where’s the Wursthaus? Where has it gone?

Where is the cider and sausage and laughter
And young men who cared not a hoot what came after?”

CAMBRIDGE, MA – FEBRUARY 2: Patrons sit at the bar of the Wursthaus in Cambridge, MA’s Harvard Square on Feb. 2, 1983. (Photo by John Blanding/The Boston Globe via Getty Images)

Opened in 1917, the Wursthaus closed in 1996 to make way for a bank. (sigh).

http://archive.boston.com/blogs/yourtown/boston/dirty-old-boston/2014/02/for_better_or_wurst.html

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3 thoughts on “NOSTALGIA –The Wursthaus Sonnet–

  1. A very telling sea Ice article on WUWT by Javier.

    And those days certainly were. They were a time when a clear voice, clear words and musical music were the norm. More than being like singing in the popular venues we now have so much rasping, screaming and lowest common denominator expression.

  2. Thanks, Caleb. A very interesting two comments, yours and Robert’s. Have you ever considered the parallel between the changes in poetic form and the changes in music? As poetry moved into free verse, music got darker since you could now write anything that you felt. Your poems where the rhyming words, if you will, are in the middle of sentences instead of at the end of thoughts, are really much move evident in music now as well. Yes, I think this poem shows far greater effort in creation than does a story written in a form of a poem. When you make the effort, you write marvelous poetry. Thanks again for this effort, and write what you like best – even if I don’t think it is poetry.

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