By J.J. Tindall
Surfing to Byzantium
Shining city on a hill.
I’m not kidding.
As in Rome, once.
Boneyard of gods.
Cemeteries were parks, once.
You could picnic
on the presumption
of Potter Palmer,
thrill to the elegance
of Burnham or Sullivan
while munching
on a pickle,
wonder what
it would be like
to be a Getty
in Byzantium!
But that’s
all gone now.
Except for the
Virtual Orgy:
at bus stops,
on buses,
on trains, in cabs,
offices, cafes.
Public Delectation!
Even the ladies!
Grown children
in front of our parents . . .
pounding our
digital poles.
Sailing to Bliss!
I hear it’s out there somewhere!
Getty in Byzantium,
wailing on her Smart Phone.
I dig her
Smart . . . Phone.
Sailing to God,
I suppose.
The city shines with it
(there is no hill).
–
J.J. Tindall is the Beachwood’s poet-in-residence. He welcomes your comments. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress.
–
More Tindall:
* Chicagoetry: The Book
* Ready To Rock: The Music
* Kindled Tindall: The Novel
Posted on December 7, 2010