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