Thursday, June 28, 2012

Untitled #4

I can see green thru

windows, from where I sit. 

My Chicago is a fickle femme,

ready to go out, then

changing her mind. Left, then,

with what I can find of the

sidewalks, I am

trapped between rivers.

I follow them home & rest.

Birds follow me, dogs accompany me,

lightening precedes me & my

footsteps are thunder.

One lonely three-millionth of the City.

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