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Walk to LaSalle Park

Eric 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.

Eric Gelsinger

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