Market in Spain

Market in Spain

I participated in a local event for poets to write about our town, Madison, WI.  The result is mapped here: 

Here is my contribution:

The State Office Building, One West Wilson

It was where we met, that great art deco monolith on Lake Monona.
The etched brass elevator doors opened to whisk passengers
to one of eleven floors in the center tower, where the Parole Board
at the top was as distant to us as it was to the prisoners at Waupun.
Before air-conditioning, grit from open windows coated our desks.
When we got our own PCs, the typing pool vanished and so did
the boxes of dusty punch cards and crumbling printouts that hid
desiccated bananas and a few musty athletic shoes and socks.
We watched the Circus Parade on the tracks in back of the building
as it headed to Milwaukee, or escaped to the Wednesday Farm Market,
where our purchases left scent-trails of basil and onions and gladiolas   
in the elevator where you gave me a kiss right after the doors closed.

And the backstory:

I met my husband Roger when we both worked for the Division of Corrections.  He worked in Madison and I worked on a research project in a Probation and Parole office on the Eastside of Milwaukee.  I came to Madison for meetings in the State Office Building at One West Wilson.  I did not own a car so I took the Badger Bus to Madison.  Roger started his campaign to win my heart by driving me to the bus terminal on South Bedford Street.  After a year of commuting to see one another, I transferred to Central Office and moved to Middleton.  I worked at One West Wilson for about fifteen years.  I have very fond memories of our supervisor, Ted Johnson, who likely knew what we were up to, but kept it to himself.


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