Tuesday, September 16, 2014

SO LONG, FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT

Suppose—for a moment
Chicago-
land's oldest

facades of ruddy 
brick—

all leaning
chipped 
and gritty—definitely no longer 

pretty 
to see—save maybe 

for 
nearer 

to the hardly-
seen 
bottom of each—

here
and there—a curious 

but inadvertent  
green mossy gully;

suppose—
each 
little dismal

individual brick even!—still
had something 

tough—to say 
about us—

like—I don't 
know
maybe—just

you do what you can.

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