By J.J. Tindall
BLACK DOG IN LITTLE HELL
PLEASE God
NOT TODAY: I have to
work! My self-esteem
went to bed in Lincoln Park
and awoke in
Goose Island, Old
Little Hell.
Black Dog
barking: the only Chicago
hurricane, broiling
from within. Blank
pain, rank blood flood.
Night drove a river piling
into my grief reservoir, so
flagrant failures, vicious
insults, and stagnant heartbreak
shatters my smile.
BUT I HAVE TO WORK!
To teach, entertain, lobby
for life! I HAVE TO WORK . . .
I’ll have to
lie, to act, to merely
endure (again).
This broken morning
there is no
tomorrow, this broken
moment there is only
snarling sorrow. And I have
to
work . . .
–
J. J. Tindall is the Beachwood’s poet-in-residence. He can reached at jjtindall@yahoo.com. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress.
Posted on June 10, 2008