Bravo, bravo! How
bold! and intrepid! So
brave! and even
a little
impetuous!—squawk clearly several
presumably anthro-
pomorphic and hulking—American
bald eagle-sparrows
encouragingly—and directly
to our hero
and his arrow—
as they pierce through
the fierce wind
and pass
briskly together
underneath the animals'
posh private hot
roost—up above
the most
cartoony
back alley mosaics
of crazy swirling
houndstooth-
gnarly brickwalls
in all
of wobbly westside Chicago—themselves the
only things
in town—
so thick
as to—seemingly
not give a whip—
whether
or not—it's
thirty-below.
