Diminishing Returns
From the 
Spring
Waukesha Mineral 
Water
Sixty years ago 
- 70 YEARS NOW -
I was sent to the Silurian 
Spring vestige
Weekly, to get water 
bubbling up from the ground
Through a plain pipe; 
No finialed, turreted 
monuments around then,
No platformed exotic 
encirclements 
 No delicate parasols, in the after-days; 
But for the history keepers 
to thankfully tell us,
- See below footnote 
-
Gone is the heraldry of 
Waukesha
As the vaunted 
Saratoga of the West,
The intricate and ornate 
vaultings,
 Carves and turnings
The Victorian porticos 
 Resort and spa hostelries
Drawing Chicagoans, New 
Yorkers,
By railroad 
To the little 
Waukesha 
Wisconsin’s
Painted depot boards
All splintered and 
demolished by hasty people
In a hurry for advancing 
modernity
Where celebrity and 
gossamer
 Once lavishly held forth;
After
Lofty and mystical spring 
names
Like Almanaris, Arcadian, 
Bethesda,
Clysmic, 
Fountain Crescent, 
 Horeb, Hygeia, Mineral Rock,
Orchard, Roxo, Silurian, 
Solarian,
 White Rock 
diminished into 
antiquity
like the detritus of
a briefly upswept vortex, 
soiled newspapers and 
flyers
scattered, blown by a 
departed train
The hefty claims for the 
curative properties
Of 
Waukesha spring water were 
de-claimed;
No longer did wealthy 
foreigners 
Disembark at the town train 
depots for 
Halcyon days of taking the 
cures
In charming, unlike 
anywhere else
 Waukesha 
surroundings;
It was indeed something 
different to come here
Even sometimes sitting in 
big tubs
Having also poison-sucking 
Waukesha mud
(Yes, even our mud)
 packed to their chins by freshly-clad nurse 
attendants
  while 
sipping the mystical, magical
And ever-tendered
Waukesha 
Water
Bearing labels of 
be-gauzied winged nymphs;
Those were days of 
caveat-emptor in 
Reckless, truth-stretching 
advertising;
Claims were made without 
legal constraint
Allowing the water 
entrepreneurs,
The stockholders 
To boast, to fable, to 
inscribe
On enthralling and storied 
bottle labels
Of
Downright cures for 
diabetes, Bright’s disease,
Gravel, dyspepsia, 
rheumatism, jaundice,
Indigestion, costiveness, 
dysentery, 
Chills, and nervous and 
sick headaches.
Those cures were just at 
nearby  
Inscrutably-boweled 
Silurian Spring;
Elsewhere in 
Waukesha you could get
other systemic-trickling, 
enigmatic spring waters
offering remedial panaceas 
for gout, dropsy,
water sure to be 
diaphoretic, anti-emetic,
even thirst allaying 
(!)
and a lessening of nausea 
and gastric distress,
Not to mention a cure for 
all liver and kidney diseases.
I would come home those 60 
years ago 
Pulling a coaster wagon of 
filled variously improvised
Water holders 
From the constantly running 
pipe
of the Silurian 
Spring,
A  plain pipe then in an inglorious recessed, 
concreted
 Uncelebrated stair well
of about 6 feet deep in the 
Silurian park
Located
To the immediate east of 
the Soo Line
railroad depot
The pipe now cemented 
over
I would tug my Zep wagon up 
the slow incline of Silurian park
– now called 
“Waukesha Springs” but in name only 
–
across Hartwell,one block 
down Beechwood
and one block to our corner 
at Arcadian
and 
Colton street
There my job was to take 
the storage
 Containers down into our cool basement
And  refill our table-worthy 
National Brotherhood of 
Potters brand
 Ice-box water jug, with the All-seeing 
Eye
Trademark on the bottom, 
the sprays of Oriental Poppies
Painted in the glazed tan 
background on the two broad sides
Oh,
It was and it still is a 
lovely crock, 
A yawning hollow to hold 
and hallow
A curved yet overall 
rectangular shape that 
Allowed for cozy nesting 
among 
Other ice-cooled 
perishables.
We’d put it right up 
against the melting ice
To insure a shockingly cold 
drink
Now the ice box morphed 
into an electric refrigerator, and    
It may contain cans of 
superfluous diet soda
and fruit juices
But, stay, for the 
plainest, most rewarding
Truly thirst-quenching 
drink
I’ll have some deep gulps 
of still crystalline 
Waukesha 
tap water
Anytime
Now direct from of the sink 
 faucet
But still held in
The chilly crock;
The squeaky cork-lined lid 
Still making the heavy clay 
clunk 
Of ceramic meeting ceramic 
when seated
As it always did
Lamentably, 
Waukesha 
water is warned to be
at the opposite extreme of 
greatness
And unflourished writings 
from the water utility warn 
Warn of toxic radium levels 
now
-         
by now we must nearly glow in the dark  –
and the earth below and the 
vastness above
Are tainted, soiled with 
pollutants;
But  old Waukeshans
Are game old fish 
With shredded fins, 
and
We swim in the pond we were 
given;
These are post-Saratoga 
days
And we had it good;
What of those to 
come?
They won’t have,
They will never have 
The Brotherhood of 
Potters
Crock that held
The stuff of conjurers 
Next to a fifty pound
Block of ice