Tuesday, April 26, 2016

OBSCURA

The roving 
Lake Michigan 

ghosts
of lupine fog—

climbing 
up and

garishly
chewing—the tops

off West 
Loop parking 
garage towers—

make the whole
landscape 

of work 
look—not only

ugly—but 
darkly
self-

conscious about it—
its vertical walls,
like slender

shoulders 
under obliterated 

faces,
tensed
and raised, 

as if vague-
ly wincing
away in their loam

coats of beige-
gray, with the 
huge stress 

of being 
so durably

and deliberately 
constructed—
but then left

to stand there
so unprotected—
and each

turning vague 
with the noxious 
pollution 

of mercurial
weather's dumb 
disinclinations, while still

remaining 
so fixedly—
manmade.

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