By J.J. Tindall
HOW COULD I NOT SEETHE?
How could I not seethe
for the exquisite luxury
of your
skin?
How could I not burn
for the fugitive elegance
of your
face?
Posted on February 8, 2008
Chicagoetry: Whoops! I Found Myself!
By J.J. Tindall
WHOOPS! I FOUND MYSELF!
I found
Myself
Late one Heart-
Attack
Monday
Morning,
Posted on February 7, 2008
Chicagoetry: My Good War
By J.J. Tindall
MY GOOD WAR
My friend’s father finally
showed me
his medals. His son,
my friend Dan,
a Navy Commander
killed
on September 11th,
had arranged them
in a
frame
some years
ago.
Posted on February 5, 2008
Chicagoetry: Pindaric Ode To The Fantastic Four
By J.J. Tindall
PINDARIC ODE TO THE FANTASTIC FOUR
Ladies: respect. You four came out the front door
at Oakley and North Aves. one late-autumn night
as I lugged the last of my book collection to
Myopic. I was already out of breath, but you guys
took whatever was left. Four of you, ready to PARTY!
One of you said: “We’re all wearing short skirts!”
Indeed: short skirts, leggings, knee-high spiky
boots.
Lo: you are better-educated, better-paid and
better-prepared for life than your male counterparts.
Me? I’m a generation
Posted on February 4, 2008
Chicagoetry: If You Love Something, Tell It Off
By J.J. Tindall
IF YOU LOVE SOMETHING, TELL IT OFF
If you love
something,
tell it
off (and then
Posted on February 1, 2008
Chicagoetry: Living In A Little Catholic Cemetery
By J.J. Tindall
LIVING IN A LITTLE CATHOLIC CEMETERY
Finally, the whole earth
gushed out of me.
I was left alone, empty, living in a little
Catholic cemetery. Musta been
the southwest side: gangsters, black
athletes, immigrant labor leaders.
Posted on January 30, 2008
Chicagoetry: The Emperor’s New Gown
By J.J. Tindall
THE EMPEROR’S NEW GOWN
I like
nice things.
A big house,
for starters.
I fancy
the subdivision
called Moral
Highgrounds.
Posted on January 25, 2008
Chicagoetry: Baker Street Blues
By J.J. Tindall
BAKER STREET BLUES
Gerry Rafferty’s “Baker Street”
was “Our Song.”
Me, and Ms. Susan
Lynn Vaugh of Mesquite,
Texas, new to Naperville
Central.
I moved in
fast, moments ahead
of my
reputation.
Posted on January 24, 2008
Chicagoetry: Blame My Mother For The Swearing Thing
By J.J. Tindall
BLAME MY MOTHER FOR THE SWEARING THING
Wait: blame
her
father,
Joseph
Francis Mahar,
of Long
Branch,
New Jersey (Grant chilled there).
Posted on January 18, 2008
Chicagoetry: Pop Culture Is The Opiate Of The Masses
By J.J. Tindall
POP CULTURE IS THE OPIATE OF THE MASSES
Imagine a bougainvillea, a lush, plastic lavender. Yes!
Pixels on a plastic screen! Stare deeply into this scentless icon
and forget America.
Forget Rome! FORGET THE ALAMO! Whither Napoleon?!
Might is right, right? Right right right?! Stand at attention, Six Double-Five
Three Two One! The world moves
on a woman’s
Posted on January 17, 2008