Ode to the Blackhawks
The windshield wipers swish
The heavens explode
The rain pours down
flooded roads
cars hydroplaning
endless slow motion expressway.
a child in the next car
big eyed and staring out the rain speckled window
a pizza delivery truck ahead
trail mix in the glove compartment
talk radio
Take the next exit to anywhere
leave the highway for roads unknown
an escape from a sea of brake lights
a limping rain drenched beggar and his sign
a momentarily clear way, a green light, an arrow
an uncharted meandering
home the north star
neon store fronts
reflections
Readings by Maria
“Franks”ville
Joe E’s Unforgettable Lounge
Olga’s Deli
Pawn Shops
the city west side
brake lights ahead
streets unexpectedly closed
police everywhere
directing drivers away or towards
no one knows
Honking starts, long drawn out compression of horns
shouting, screaming, whistling, frantic jumping of those beside the road
gunshots?
Just fireworks in gas station parking lots
Is that even safe?
bright lights in the distance
the roar of a city
on closer inspection,
smiles
laughter
drunken revelry
giddiness
flags waving
comraderie
connection
Has there been a revolution
a coup d'état?
No,
The Blackhawks have won!
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