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Poems On / About CHICAGO  8/30/2014 9:28:14 PM
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Best Poems About / On CHICAGO
 
 
 
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  237.     

A(nother) Night Without You

A) fragmented life story
interiority, if you will (i called this one 'alone')
your eyes provoke the night’s conscious panting,
a tangible thickness that collects ceaselessly on all four sides of a dimly lit room
and dries
your mouth, the canvas lampshade in the corner
that licks its lips and closes,
gathering each lonely fragment of the pale gold
into a haze that screams silently through the window
and dies

B) cause maybe I like it this way,
(this one 'a short story written in neon')
your love the bloody bird’s head in the middle
of the sidewalk
and mine the pristine corpse found in the street,

C) yourself,
('the rain in chicago' or 'awakening from a dream')
the overlooked blood in the streets
of a city where they walk the grimy
asphalt not noticing the rain
or each other,
their dreams, or
the gaudy framework they hang them from

D) eafening (or evastating)
either way you see the silence,
it’s still silence
I’ll still sneak out for a cigarette,
at 2: 35 am
and listen to the night air panting as you sleep
(this is too much for me
This is too much for me-e-e-e, me-e-e-e
E)
 
Matt Denis

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  238.     

Waggle and Jounce

Out on the lake
the whitecaps leap,
old lions shot in midair.
Not far from the water
I sit on a knoll
and open your letter.
You're in Sacramento now
singing for money.
Here in Chicago,
on hot August nights,
I lick in my dreams
at the scoops
in your shoulders.
I prefer them to ice cream.
In a week I'll fly out
and salute your nipples.
Long may your buttocks
waggle and jounce.
 
Donal Mahoney

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  239.     

Maku - Lincoln Park Zoo

A black rhino, Maku's the name.
Not really black, more reddish brown.
Endangered species - that's a shame.
But I'm safe in Chicago town.
I've been wooing Kapuki girl.
The humans keep checking her poop,
Hoping that this romantic whirl
Will bring a wee one to the Loop.
I'm used to humans all around.
They are a species I study.
Smart and dumb, both together wound,
But not endangered like I be.

Carry the hope is what I do.
Right here at the Lincoln Park Zoo.
 
Ima Ryma

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  240.     

Poetry Magazines

Poetry magazines are a lot of poo
They send your poems back to you
With little notes and friendly words
As a poet you`re a wordless nerd

They`d probably send Bill Shakespeare back
And call John Keats a lot of crap
And as for our dear Ezra Pound
I`m sorry sir- you`re so unsound

Your iambs are no good at all
Your prosody a lot of balls
The theme this month is vegetables
From turnips we read nothing at all...

So here`s a tip to all you poets
Forget this literary posh don`t-know-its
Let the people judge what`s good or bad
Here`s to a democratic, international, anti-capital
publisher and magazine free Internet - FREE POETRY
(O.K., the last line doesn`t rhyme, but hallo
Chicago and London, I`m no good, am I?)
 
Leslie Philibert

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Poems On / About CHICAGO