"Heaven has a road, but no one travels it; Hell has no gate, but men will bore through to get there."

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Frontier Family

This is the conclusion of one of my poems about the many transitions from growing up in rural Kansas and ending up on the very urban eastern shore of Lake Michigan in Chicago.

This sustains me amongst friends and offspring,
As I look out my window onto the street
At the shivering crack dealer-
His wanton, narrowed face and hollowed grin.
Wondering if he sees the morning star begin?
Amidst a family of real diversity-
Black, Latino, hippies, weed,
And holy-rollers with Ennui.
He sits in the heartland’s Red Line Tap,
Tortured by the tv screen,
As a shadow of terror peeks out
From behind the news
Like a waiting predator
Beside Laura Bush’s placid face,
And questions all security.
With all I’ve gained and felt,
Am I found or lost?
As I gaze across the lake
And try hard to see
Past the gruesome, though politically correct,
And queer folk hypocrite preachers
Under drooping willow trees,
Amidst the cancers of extremes.

cjk 06

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