Saturday, February 5, 2022

man standing on his head in Union Station - today's poem

man standing on his head in Union Station

 

thinks he sees frontier outlaws, cattle rustlers

confidence men, ladies of the evening, Cicero gangsters

aldermen, church officers, bank presidents, union bosses

school children, mothers, fathers, grandparents, space

aliens thinks he sees Chicago Bears beating Minnesota 13-0

 

air molecules seeming to move toward him

stand still in migrating slants

of sunlight

 

as passengers pass by pass between

wander and weave wave and warn themselves

numbed by daily routines passersby

seem to suspend in hivelike activity

missionary while stationary in motion

both here and not now and not

looking in and out to other times

other places on the line and off

as the words inside him whisper

 

the Burlington Northern welcomes you to Chicago’s Union Station

announcements ring out now arriving, now departing

feet, trolleys, trains, and taxis

on floors, streets, and tracks come and go

coming and going doors whoosh open and shut

 

his memory seems to fade away his

competence is irrelevant all around him

dates, years, hours unglue from the Now

 

it’s a rather large small he is beginning to see and un-see

a future before him and a past behind the here and now

always somehow trying not to try

there where the marble stairs outline the wooden benches beyond

splitting infinities in the vast mind of the observer being observed

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