Chicago - A message from the station manager

Chicagoetry: Someone Might Still Love Me

By J.J. Tindall

Someone Might Still Love Me
Demeter in semi-profile,
like Illinois on a map:
sharp brow, full cheek,
lake to her left ear,
glassine underworld
of wrecked ships
and crashed planes,
lovers and suitors
plucked by Hades
who is Time.

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Posted on April 25, 2011

Chicagoetry: Great Fire

By J.J. Tindall

Great Fire
Eyes: bring water.
Great fire burning through.
Apollo, sun-god, king
Of shadows,
Let me burn.
He commanded the shadows
To flee
And there was me,

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Posted on March 24, 2011

Chicagoetry: Arterial

By J.J. Tindall

ARTERIAL

Willows on the lake weep always
but all trees weep in winter.
Hearts hanging in reverse, denuded,
x-rays of arterial globes,
street by perfectly straight street.
Like the oldest cities on earth,
this one’s a grid,

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Posted on February 21, 2011

Chicagoetry: I Wanna Paint Really Cool Murals, Man

By J.J. Tindall
I WANNA PAINT REALLY COOL MURALS, MAN
I wanna be a muralist, man.
I wanna paint really cool murals.
Elephants and sausages and very pretty
ladies, and, well, I’m a little off
rainbows these days but
I’ll keep an open mind about it.
A lot of murals already have rainbows.
Huge oranges, fat black cats.

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Posted on December 27, 2010

Chicagoetry: Surfing To Byzantium

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,

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Posted on December 7, 2010

Chicagoetry: Son Of Some Other Guy

By J.J. Tindall

SON OF SOME OTHER GUY
“Some other guy is sippin’ up her honey like a yellow dog, oh now
Some other guy, now, has taken my love just like I’m gone, oh now
I’m the lonely one
As long as I can feel all right”

****
Previously, on “Some Other Guy:”
“Awake in the razor’d dark
to the consummate torture
of my own imagination…
Him, luxuriating
in her inspired lewdness…”
****
O Muse!
Evil bitch!
O Love!
Cruel Fate!

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Posted on November 17, 2010

Chicagoetry: Some Other Guy

By J.J. Tindall

Some Other Guy
Him, luxuriating
in her inspired lewdness.
Her, chuckling
at my timidity and tenderness.
Sweet, shy, cute
v.
Hot, tough, aloof

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Posted on November 9, 2010

Chicagoetry: Saturday Afternoon

By J.J. Tindall

Saturday Afternoon
Music, if music, is divine,
the sub-atomic matter of divinity.
Not as a god but as a god might be.
He savored the complacencies
of a beer run, illumined by siren song,
the luminous trill of a woman’s voice
in Spanish–not the tyrannous bleat
of emergency engines–sluicing through
ash-grey alleys like invisible water
through caverns of Indian-corn brick,
fluttering, flirting and luring,
lute en fleur.

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Posted on October 19, 2010

Chicagoetry: Congress Wars

By J.J. Tindall

Congress Wars
Memory is the soil of imagination,
the womb of insight,
the crucible of enlightenment.
I have been lighted, lightened,
as by lightning, by revelation
(which rhymes with revolution).

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Posted on September 8, 2010

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