Chicago, Illinois — 1 Comment

  1. Hope all is well in the city of the ‘Wild Onion’. I was actually born in Hinsdale. A little over four decades ago.

    Here is a piece of rabble for you rousers!


    American dollars spread thin
    Like cold jam on stale bread
    Between logs and people
    Black as pitch on Indian kayaks

    From B to W
    And back to the Tex-arab-i-cans
    Holy from recognition
    Green and black

    Spilling like water
    In rivulets and streams
    On deserts here and there
    Seeping into the cracks
    Juicing the mossy clingers
    Blue then red then black

    Still we spin, and stash, and hope
    As it soaks up the Sun
    On liver-spotted flesh
    Losers and flowers
    Wave on the breeze
    Tell it to the wind
    Gold, red, white and blue, and black

    Final Edit – 9-23-2011


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