Chicago - A message from the station manager

Chicagoetry: Black Tupelo

By J.J. Tindall

Black Tupelo
After W.H. Auden
Now is the winter.
I took you for granted,
Black tupelo,
Grand in the yard,
Grand in the parkway,
Grand in the autumn:

Read More

Posted on November 14, 2016

Chicagoetry: Down The South Branch Of The Mind

By J.J. Tindall

Down the South Branch of the Mind
Like anyone else
In a committed relationship,
Whenever I am offered a stark life-choice
With deep ramifications
I insist on being given time
To talk it over
With my mind.

Read More

Posted on October 24, 2016

Chicagoetry: Houses Of The Holy

By J.J. Tindall

Houses of the Holy
It is difficult to get further outside of time
Than on a bike ride through a large, old cemetery.
My “local” is Forest Home in Forest Park
(Perhaps it is like the British pub system,
One has a “local”),
Where one can always find the rain.
Rain sings the best rain songs!
I know the Haymarket Memorial is here

Read More

Posted on September 1, 2016

Chicagoetry: Whirl

By J.J. Tindall

Whirl
What is a whirlwind?
They happen every day, somewhere.
The world, we know, whirls.
Rain whirls: a waterspout
Of converging rain and lake water whirled
Off Navy Pier as a front
Rolled in.

Read More

Posted on August 9, 2016

Chicagoetry: I Walked Into Rainbo

By J.J. Tindall

I Walked into Rainbo
I walked into Rainbo
I was naked, of course,
I was dreaming, of course, but
The place was packed and
I became naked (I
Didn’t walk in naked)
But I was suddenly naked so
What do you do?

Read More

Posted on July 20, 2016

Chicagoetry: Night Jets

By J.J. Tindall

NIGHT JETS
Then comes the white-hot shriek
Of the street jets,
The racing motorbikes
That tear up the expressways
In the middle of the night
In summer, when the windows
Are all open.

Read More

Posted on June 20, 2016

Chicagoetry: The Conversation

By J.J. Tindall

The Conversation
Two Hispanic teenagers sat behind me
On the train, talking about
Their schools: the honors programs,
The bullies, the sports, the opportunities.
I think they got on
At Western, on the southwest Blue Line.
My mind was all Gene Hackman
In “The Conversation,”
Honing in on the equivalent

Read More

Posted on May 24, 2016

Chicagoetry: Violets/Violence

By J.J. Tindall

Violets/Violence
A soft, suburban violet
Is a bride of quietness, foster-child
Of silence and slow time.
Buds, blooms and blossoms seem
Sudden every cycle: “Wait:
Winter isn’t forever?!”
Innocence is in this way
Renewed, and any young
Flower can be arresting.

Read More

Posted on May 2, 2016

Chicagoetry: Loon

By J.J. Tindall

Loon
Death lurks, not looming.
Breath is a fender
Protecting the works.
Breath
Is a boon, my beloved,
A watchful loon
On a slender heath
Offering no surrender,

Read More

Posted on April 11, 2016

1 4 5 6 7 8 26