Written for:  Poetic Asides #421 – Write a password poem.


I think of 1920’s speakeasies
when wary hosts slid a wooden
slot open to view potential
customers. Outside, building
signs decried soda shop
or restaurant. Patrons were
required to produce a secret
password, or specified knock
to gain entrance. I think
of how thrilling it must have
been to be in a speakeasy
while liquor was still illegal.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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3 Responses to Speakeasies

  1. Alex says:

    You actually make it seem so easy together with your presentation however I to find this matter to be actually something which I think I might never understand. It kind of feels too complex and very broad for me. I am taking a look forward on your subsequent post, I’ll try to get the hold of it!


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