Silly Little City I Live and Love in

Silly little city with your harp street lamps,

blizzards and vigil light stars,

with your tutued street lights

and 30-below wind chills, bandshells and polkas,

and steamy smoky lake's pink waves,

with your huge orange moons rising from the lake,

with your huge red suns rising from the lake,

with your sad jumpers falling into the lake,

& your socialist watershed and Oriental Theater minarets

and Sunday morning Quaker meetings

surrounded by church bells and taverns,

with everyday George Washington

walking down Wisconsin Avenue,

with your ice fishing clinics and beer blessings,

with your seven deadly sins parades,

with your alewives' parades and cladophora winds

and streets named after sausages (Nock),

with Francis Bacon's blue face

on the side of your art museum

and Joseph Cornell's Celestial Navigation

by Birds (Gallery 18) inside your museum,

with your statues of Goethe and Burns,

Olmsted parks and bakery winds,

silly little city that erases me, I keep

fastening your lake winds to the page.