Monday, September 10, 2007

The Capital of the Midwest

Wreckless Eric wrote about finding
the perfect woman
in the Bahamas or
maybe Tahiti.

I didn’t have to go to either to
find my love.

She lived just northwest of me,
in the city. She roamed with the Bears, Cubs,
Wolves, and Bulls.
Alleys were just spacious enough.

Fire once owned the city’s wind.
Consumed it raw,

meat crying blood dripping down
on
the O'Leary's cow.

I didn’t know my love then.
Like seeds germinating for decades we
awaited angel bees to rocket down and
copulate with ancestors.

1 Comments:

Blogger Chad said...

Neil Kelly writes love poetry?

1:18 AM  

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