A New York School Poem

 

It was in Chicago around 1853

The white city ablaze with whispering faces

It felt like floating in a dream

And it seems that way every time I think back on it

What would the Romans have thought?

They’re sculptures pity the ones that lay before me

You stood very close to my side

And to me you were the center of life

Like a stick of heroin in my arm

What do you think you’d do for that feeling?

There is a tornado in my chest

I wonder what I would be doing in Chicago 1854

I’ll have what she’s having