Chicagoetry: After Midnight In The Latin Quarter

AFTER MIDNIGHT IN THE LATIN QUARTER

At midnight, the weather broke
in two, and warmth gushed in. I and I

were flushed out into the night.
I floated down North Avenue,

walking past a number of selves -
one drunk, hammered, maybe nineteen -

through the Latin Quarter.
Along the blue-black thoroughfare:

dollar stores, Mexican restaurants,
liquor stores, Puerto Rican restaurants,

joyeria, lavanderia, licoreria, supermercado.
Uh, and shuttered gates

where Capitalism
was late.

Another self here holds onto his dreams
tight, that Right is Might, and in

sucking the life
out of life.

Another will shortly attend a synagogue of bright
pain,
then a cathedral

of rain.
"Wish you were

beer . . . "
Hell is given, Heaven siezed

from the blue-black
breeze.

Off the thoroughfare, the houses and multi-flats
evoke a soothing, familial, OLD WORLD DIGNITY,

A FUGITIVE GRACE, breeze at your face,
after midnight

in the
Latin Quarter.

-

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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