Chicagoetry: A Murder Of Tulips

By J.J. Tindall

A MURDER OF TULIPS

I lug my spavined heart
to work
along the Magnificent Mile.
A murder of tulips
belies my grief.
They are nothing!

Still, serene, stoic, superlative.

A murder of tulips
defies my grief, I cannot
unshine them, I cannot

unsee them.
Green winged angels with yellow halos

perform a harrowing visual requiem.
A brace of supple choirs

enact a vivid, visceral psalm.
The do no thing for me!
But they are themselves.

CHICAGO IS EGO!
And yet they sing.
MY RESUME IS OBSOLETE!
And yet they sing.
MY FAITH IS INCOMPLETE!
And yet they sing.

And yet they sing:
"If the idea
of God
is God
let it be
God.

If the idea
of Hope
is Hope
let it be
Hope."

They do nothing for me!
They are better than me.

And they sing.

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J. J. Tindall is the Beachwood's poet-in-residence. He can reached at jjtindall@yahoo.com. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress.

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