Chicago how i love you.... how i would go back in a second, if going back in a second was possible.... only in my mind... so what you beat me up and made me run away... so what your skies were often grey... i learned from you how to suffer ... and now they say i am grace, how i carry myself somtimes.... chicago you taught me to suffer so... gracefully... touched by you, i am... so i am... if bipolar was a weather pattern.... chicago... so balanced and fucking off the hook crazy...wow.... photogenic.... not a bad side to your skyline ... but your underbelly.... Lake Street... under the elevated line lies darkness... some may never see through, others will always overlook... chicago, wow, you are a maze in my dreams ... my memory howls for you... like Neko Case down by the Morton Salt mural.... at the alt-country bar, there... Elston Avenue's industrial madness... concrete suite... asphalt phalls....falls on the midwest farms to feed...to pheed the people.... elements locked in industrial jungle...
iron trax above and circling round like an architectural subway tour...above the underbelly of jazz era dope fiends making music on the side...friendly...when you need a hit, its phriendly...apocryphal shining of shoes, down by Ceres... where's my reflection the suit demands...tosses the tip in the air and saunters off...ceriously? Seriously...grain is ruled by gods...fronted by statues of goddesses...chicago with your big shoulder mentality... why do i love you...it is never why, only how, Chicago... how i love you... because you stole my heart... because you flagged my spirit... because you suffered my fool... almost drown me in your pool... great lake serpent snake...cold gold flake... flat iron brick city... Michigan can only distance itself so far... Detroit licking guitars... echos of screams let out of their jars... bars, bars, BARS.... all your fucking urban manifestations....every representation of every known nation... the urban.... Nelson Algren ... Polish Triangle... chicago, a working class city at heart....taught me how to work for shit...taught me how to work for it... west side was the best side...punks... reduced rent lofts... small bar on every corner... bars on every window...the alcohol abuse center, r.i.p... miss your billiards and your two bucks for a double whisky....flat iron... artist haven... i got my only blue tattoo, chicago... my blue tattoo to remember you, chicago... to remember you.
