Category: Swapmeet Poetry

Her big straw hat with purple flowers and rainbow ribbons made her easier to spot amid the surging crowds. “Raspberry shortbread, chocolate, pecan or oatmeal!” she called to the vendors, selling them cookies “home-made, hand-crafted, and guaranteed insurance-free.” She had no credentials of any kind, no sanction from any authority, local, state or federal. Without…

There are no walls between the booths except perhaps a tarp for shade. There is no privacy, as everyone hears everything from everywhere. Vendors know neighbors like the villagers of old, know generations of each other’s clans. The closeness is infectious and affects the customers, who also become part of this unlikely tribe of strangers.…

Such a sweet wind, perfumed with Eucalyptus, hot dogs and incense, greets the crowd as it streams toward the Rose Bowl’s pillars and arches, to sounds of pipe organ. Beyond the chain link fence the spectacle of the swap meet unfolds, a world of vivid sights and wondrous dreams. Greetings and merchandise are passed over…

Green canyons rise on either side of the Vale of the Arroyo where the Rose Bowl stadium stands. In former times, before bulldozers and cement invaded the sylvan serenity that had permeated the place for thousands of years, Native Americans had revered the sparkling stream, now encased in concrete, the sycamore grove that still shaded…

In the bright sunlight total strangers exchange smiles along the aisles, shopping for deals but sometimes finding so much more. Amid thousands of brightly-decorated booths are such intoxicating sights and sounds, the varied merchandise a feast for every eye, not plastic and identical like stuff in stores. The sellers too are colorful in what they…