Chicagoetry: Black Dog In Little Hell

BLACK DOG IN LITTLE HELL

PLEASE God
NOT TODAY: I have to
work! My self-esteem
went to bed in Lincoln Park

and awoke in
Goose Island, Old
Little Hell.
Black Dog

barking: the only Chicago
hurricane, broiling
from within. Blank
pain, rank blood flood.

Night drove a river piling
into my grief reservoir, so
flagrant failures, vicious
insults, and stagnant heartbreak

shatters my smile.
BUT I HAVE TO WORK!
To teach, entertain, lobby
for life! I HAVE TO WORK . . .

I'll have to
lie, to act, to merely
endure (again).
This broken morning

there is no
tomorrow, this broken
moment there is only
snarling sorrow. And I have

to
work . . .

-

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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