Chicago

Chicago you jew bitch. Do I like you or not? Nonesuch but lake smear, sprawling and marked by parts of blacks, Thais, Puerto Ricans and people from eastern Europe. Warehouse galleries abut the meat district, there are okay restaurants. Sometimes I feel like you can only be known by night, devoid of people; your stone busts laid out in stark, the black and white of a high, perspectival, lit window. Like when leaves' concerted motion becomes a a discrete organism. And then there is my local canyon filling with hot steam from a drain by the second story tennis court by the church. And seemingly all stone buildings are having the grout replaced?! As a function of Dremels and hatchets? Stop this! You have masoned enough for one 10 o'clock. I’m sure of it. Puffy clots of water or dust across a sidewalk, alright. In Lakeview a common worker is in daycare, food service, or labor, is having a cigarette on a side street; or else coming home from downtown work. We are not so different, with the wind knocked all out of our suffrage and egregiousness. We must both have once gotten a head rush from standing up too quick after being prone for a long time. Must have had to think that old frictions were perennial. Mucked through the thick of anxiety that the Green Mill was the Apollo all over again. What is life if not justifying it too much. Maybe it gets different later on but maybe not! Just more hurry loosed. Nineteenth and twentieth century façades held-up with a latticework of scaffolding while everything else is taken away. It seems that eventually all of us would have to come out at once, some stymied, some unable to compose themselves. And so in that to not amount to much. What had been nature losing out for keeps to capability and vastness. Counting out gun deaths in matchsticks. Meddling with things on the coasts was a big mistake; welding led to naught. Scrub brush and cast concrete, living it up and having enough to eat.