Autobiographical Poet
As I sit wandering about the south
side of Chicago captured effortlessly
by the tall dandelions watching the
lightening bugs rest on sunken cattails
we often lit them just before the sun
sets over George Washington Carver
campus deep within the forest preserve
over looking the Dan Ryan expressway
just to keep the mosquitoes at bay there
are always so many not even the
swarming dragon flies feasting could
truly silence them I sit pondering away
with my thoughts on the Pullman strike
and the hay market projects writing poetry
in my journal as quiet as a mouse an yet I
always had something to say the orange sky
began to drift as a blanket of stars started
twinkling in a distant over the railroad
tracks I can here the loco motive rolling
down the broken planks-cotton belt
screeching down the steal beams fresh
bread will be served tonight with my
grandmothers famous Sicilian soup
right about now I here her calling my
name Cocoa cocoa put that book
down and get in here for supper it’s
getting dark you know I stuck my
pencil inside my braid and begin
skipping towards the gardens homes
that were actually built 1945 name after
Congressman John Altgeld for war
veterans returning from WWll and their
families there simply was no greater
peace right away I got to roll the lemons
cutting them for fresh lemonade and
begin asking all kinds of questions about
where do the bugs go at night how
do they sleep and why do lightning
bugs come out just before dust then
die out after we catch them and put
them in a jar the rest just vanish my
dad answered all my questions as I
began to drift off to sleep he carries
me upstairs to bed tucks me in removed
my pencil from my braid and
places my journal on my nightstand
dims the light as my mind starts to
dream of my tomorrows adventures
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