By J.J. Tindall
A Suit of Jade
The moments of my greatness
have flickered and faded.
The oil of my ambition
has ossified to jade.
I sought a train home
from the garage of servitude
up from south State
to the mirage of solitude.
Beyond the red train
stood a pagoda in the sun,
the lean mirage of Chinatown
bejewelled the urban dun.
They believe a suit of jade
guarantees immortality
and so thus buried
one is freed of death’s fealty.
But if everywhere is Chinatown,
Chinatown is nothing.
Life is like this.
Only the immortal keep suffering.
I renounce my suit of jade
for the essence of the thing:
to find pleasure in life,
to make the most of the spring.
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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
Posted on May 17, 2011