oh westward facing nautilus
you post industrial shell
heir to an illegitimate body politic
chicago fathered
like a rolling stone
where shadows
go home
to die
fields that found green
too weighty a task to maintain
appear to grow brown
all
year
round
i wander
between warehouse walls
wooden plankboards
come here to hang about
with one another
upon the face of windows
riddled in disrepair
writing enigma
behind their backside
what wonders await us
in the dark corridor
of an abandoned
production floor
but no one is heading
to the west really
we are all just transients
passing through
to our next destination
sidewalks fracture
in impressionistic patterns
this tectonic shifting
of Earth
owns an artistic sensibility
all its own
pale red brick rubrics
offer this pitiful
visual assessment
of how we measure
"redevelopment"
you are a neighborhood
diagnosed schizophrenic
how else would it be
that your simple floral oasis
owns the dividing line
between the two halves
of your mind
east garfield here
west garfield there
if international history
is any predictor
of outcomes
dividing land masses
typically precedes a war
and i ain’t willing
to let this home i hate
be your economic battleground
for it still smells
of presbyterian
and mama’s angel birth
3832 w. washington
still looks like the biggest house
on the block
because it is our own
and garfield park
is still the best thing
amongst bad things
that ever came
of a wretched city
where politicians
make monarchies
the most expedient
form of governance
but the serfs
are searching
and soon come
the kings
will be swept away
in this departing
industrial wind.
