Walk to LaSalle ParkEric Gelsinger
All day I've waited for the night, As bad-ass mad hatters tip the upper sky, Zoological zodiacal ambrosia, star shapes twist My made-up constellations gyre and Writhe, pigeons on wires and streetlights' Interstate telegraphs withe birds' flight, turnpikes Withy steel and, over, fireworks below: Fourth of July. Rattling interstate bridge: coign of eye, Telephone wiresight, the osier sky pregnant by night: Great lake under the one moon, big pretty belly of a picnicker — I stopped walking on the metal wicker Bridge over 190 traffic turned river of lights, the loudest wind Big-rigs screaming underneath give the bridge, my feet, my grip, a tingling. Above, it starts to spritz, as mom would say, wetting bridge, windshields, birds on wires, but I wait To watch the woman's face reflect the redden fireworks.
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