Yesterday sizzled on the backburner all evening- a volume of Tristan Tzara poems came in the mail and brightened my mood. I think the book's arrival bled into today's poem, further inspired by running errands around this funhouse of a city. Also shout out to the most active editor of this blog, who has a birthday today.
Notes on Shapes Comprising Chicago
Dada aspirations, skeptical presummer
in Logan Square, not a victim in sight.
Pleasantry met with hostility or honey
on pancakes, it all comes out premeditated
in hindsight, whatever the stakes.
Has misery no allure in the totality of aesthetic
grace? It is around the corner eternally,
omnipresent stalker, the maternal drain
devouring all offspring until the tattling
gurgle pricks everyone into dance and we
make a mast of the maypole and twine songs
into the sewers of entropy, ground to dreams &
fables. Echo around canyons and Platonic caves,
icebergs bobbing joyless whilst cutting smiles in vessels.
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