Personal :: Poetry

Moving to Allendale

Her words were an apocalypse
With me its only target.
"They’re nothing but rednecks, there,"
Rattled through my mind.
Pat insisted I’d love West Michigan,
She painted it with rosy dreams
And pastel happiness.
I could never leave the city.
I pushed past her,
Ran outside to rasp my fingers
Against the rough gray concrete
And blind my eyes with the dark city lights
That invite shadows out of hiding.
On the tip of my tongue rested
A metallic tang, the lifeblood of Detroit
The merry gunshots and
Soothing train whistles caressed my ears
While I lifted my head to scent car exhaust
And the crush of too many human bodies.
I hugged tight to myself the
Sharp corners of manmade sights,
Cutting as clean, warm and gentle as a razor.
I lowered my head again, and the crack in the sidewalk
Yawned wide and looked at me with pity.
"Jump in-I know you want to get lost in the city,
Because the sky and world are gray today."
Then the struggling tree dropped a leaf like a
Fortune and answered the city’s challenge.
"The world will find its rainbow,
And then you will stop searching for its gold
To have a chance at it."
The device driver of adventure
woke to mechanical life
Within me, at his words,
And Socks dashed past me, to die
Unmourned under a rubber tire.
I have to leave this city!
The wind seems to moan louder--
Kitto sore wa
Karei ni
Habataku chansu--
So I’ll fly with it,
Into the colorful jewels
of the future’s arc through the sky,
Away from the black pot and its cold, heavy cargo.

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