Chicago spring

a seat for me
to ponder the loneliness of pears
a plastic swing of sugar and pursed lips
too sweet, the lips are too sweet.
rain waits for the train
empty breaths we can see polluting
the space under a stale electric false heat
available only til the end of March
-we needed it past march.

spring turned on like a switch
it happened in a park near the city
near me, near all of me
new flesh of the earth in between
faint histories
a medicine of stones and syrup
pushed over and powerful
-flourish the colors of somebody’s past.


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