Short Water Tower Poems

don't be stiff'
bring a gift
it'll be no fee
its free
on top of the
water tower
our 
baby shower...

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Once you’ve hit rock bottom,
—you can never be controlled

(Chicago Illinois: Water Tower with Studs Terkel—July, 1977)...

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Translation,
  the executioner of emotion,
  —and rustler of graves

(Chicago Illinois: Water Tower with Studs Terkel—July, 1977)...

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Leanne sniffed a sunflower 
A bee stung her on her nose
It gave her a special power
Her arm turned into a hose 
She gave everyone a shower
Now, at home a river flows 
It could fill a water tower 
And clean old men's dirty toes  
Leanne became a hero 
Gave water to café Nero 
And she even charged zero 
Leanne's power went away 
So then all she did was lay 
Taking up the whole of the day...

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On Michigan Avenue,
 I used to go to college,
 worked in Magnificent Mile –
 Hancock Building was my view.
 
Of an epoch different style,
 Water Tower stands as remnant,
 architecture magnifier -
 on Michigan Avenue. 

People shopping in boutiques,
 buying their favorite brands –
 niche markets have new trends.
 
Sun is blinding the million windows.
 All is fashion of elegance
 on Michigan Avenue....

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For years we’ve gone to see the shows
Of Shakespeare in the Park,
Where magic happens in Manhattan
When the sky turns dark.

The theater where the plays are held
Is called the Delacorte,
Reopening this summer,
I am happy to report.

A renovation closed it down
But now it’s back for good
And boasts a new façade that’s made
From water tower wood.

“Twelfth Night” will start the season
With a most impressive cast,
An experience for those who go
That will be unsurpassed.
...

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false hint of sun    we’re back on the road    shadows of hills emerge    fields and prairies    the same old story    have and have nots    gravel shoulders    a small town on a side road    water tower pointing into the sky    another fall of rain    clouds drape skies    song of tires    the small town sleeps    conversations with the wind    something left unsaid   the road bears its age  a grove of trees, an island in fields   stalks turned gold    living and dying    unfinished dialogues...

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