Chicagoetry: Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis

Oh mother, my mouth is full of cars.
The green monk parakeet you bred and cherished
escaped the soft, slow cage in the cornfield
for the cold, gold glow

of the city.
From the feed corn to the crucible:

cat fights, pitbulls, loan sharks, stool pigeons,
barkers, batterers, park bench bivouacs,
city girls, hollow men, knife-sharp tippy-toes,
shrieking ambulances for which none give way,
elevated trains like incessant detonations,
alleys of mattresses and spent Glock cartridges,
barrooms of piss-ants, punch ups and puke . . .

but there was music!

Instead of getting crushed I got forged:
twenty-five years in a steel-black kiln,
wingspan protruding, feathers darkening,
from parakeet to peregrine falcon.

And this is music!

Bereft--bereaved--of silence
and stars, I shall return to you

spitting bolts
and shitting
lightning.

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J.J. Tindall is the Beachwood's poet-in-residence. He welcomes your comments. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress.

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More Tindall:

* Chicagoetry: The Book

* Ready To Rock: The Music

* Kindled Tindall: The Novel

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