dreamt of chicago
again,
with red
pen-
crossing off
blues,
but will chicago
dream of
me?
“sorry, man..” croons
on sufjan,
that letter, never mailed .
to sweetheart of
white veil,
i rue in cab
she’d..
dare not
hail
through these
shards of
town,
but chicago follwed
me home
so..
I’d not sleep
alone.
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