The Rush
A cloud clog of the city that keeps cars
at bay waiting fir the car in the front
to speed fast just to meet you at the light
the loop sends thoughts of madness that
lurks through the Dan Ryan of gain as a toll
is organized to blow some of the congestion
through a different channel at canal sending
you back across the Irish river within the
lights of Wacker drive as the west suburbs
calls you to get off at the next exit or at
Jackson for then and only then is the
union station in sight as you drive through
Gotham city headed south in a westbound
lane causing a blowout on the side of the
road where common wealth Edison buries
the wires for in coming trains while the
pedestrians leave thebtracks like at the
harness racing leaving behind old news
papers for the bums to cover their heads
in the rain or perhaps a comfy pillow
under the police dept at 11 and state
we call it congestion
Written by Yolanda Nicholsen
May 19th 2004 right before my
sons graduation fort myers Florida
Malcolm x birthday fond memories
of the Irish river That's Chicago
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
