Max Market Summer Sunday

Tamales, tires, tacos, tools;
Cooking smells elicit drools.
Airplane drones
And bluesmen moans,
Cellphone bleeps collide and pool.

Crying papooses squirm in their juices,
Dandled and juggled with griddled pupusas
By salsa-stained hands,
'Tween plastic-wrapped stands,
In jumbles of people like salmon in sluices.

Shiny fat Polishes streaked with hot char,
Hot CD players ("Beat me eight-to-the-bar!")
Oiled grills sizzle, charcoal smokes;
Thick champurrados, cold Mexican Cokes.

Slurps and belches--here life's real;
And it's "Ten-dolla luggage! Two-fiddy deals!"
On to the next hustle,
Into the next haggle;
Time for a pit-stop, then grab a quick meal.

'Mid sundries and spices and cartons of fruit,
Close-outs and cast-offs and treasure-box loot,
Humanity brushes,
Sucks gatorade slushes,
Strolls/pushes/crushes
At Maxwell Street Market--a gas and a hoot!

--Tamal E. Stain, A Main St. Tale
Copr. 2006

That Tamal E. Stain is a great find! Looking forward to more

My website of photographs of the Original Maxwell Street market has relocated:
http://maxwellstreetbynathanielburkins.weebly.com/

Thank you.
Nathaniel Burkins