Category: Chicago
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First snow
A tiny, frozen splash alights under my left eye. What is falling at 6:05 a.m., here, in the dark? Black sky speckled with street lights and white clumps, fumbling onto my face and jacket. I heave in to feel the cold rush enter my nostrils, then throat and chest. It cleanses with a shiver. I…
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Trying to make out the words carved into an old garden wall dug up in my backyard
The river no longer passes here regardless how I ask, I am left to find my journey in this dark soil. Or The river no longer passes here regardless how I pray for it to return — I ache for its filthy banks. Or The river did not announce it would no longer pass here…
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The city breathes
We walk in a world muffled with blue-white snow piled high. A single shadowy path guides us. Our boots crunch, blunted echoes in the distance — a car horn, shovel, train crossing, dog bark — the light of smudged stars tap through a black, hazy sky, asking permission to appear and speak. The city takes…
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City river
How its surface hides the undulation on its bottom; how its edges spill over and are spilled over into. How as it is fed by another, the water tumbles, turns over broken concrete slabs; how herons perch there, oblivious. How when the tunnel overflows with rain, it releases a stench into the summer breeze that…
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Francisco stop
Francisco stop Cool, damp dawn air, soft thuds of platform planks, long row of barely kept garages, the alley easement, weedy vines finding life on the chain-linked fences running along the tracks and the wooden gates of tiny yards. The city has its own nature, breathing as it does in these quiet between times. A…
