A War Bulletin.
The ruins–I walk around them 100 years before.
Civilization’s tall buildings–crumbling ruins yet to rise.
Vachel calls to me, “Don’t give up on my Golden City.
The Golden City will rise from the ashes.
It is you who holds the flame to Paradise.”
I stagger around the city in the magic duskdawn of everytime.
The matches in my pocket, I feel them crackle with anticipation.
The concrete rivers flow beneath my feet.
The steel & glass jungle whispers its secrets to me.
I am man, straightening her back & walking upright.
I reclaim my territory, my hunting grounds.
I dissolve their images of desire, replacing them with my own.
I desire only to be human–only human.
I crumple up my domesticity & use it as tinder for my matches.
–Myra Eddy
Local poets were writing about contemporary events in the Sangamo
Journal as early as the 1830s. People’s Poetry wants you to share your thoughts
on what’s happening in Springfield today–in poetic form. Poems on any subject
will be considered, but ones that deal with issues of local interest are encouraged.
Send yours to poetry editor Lee Gurga, P.O. Box 662, Lincoln, IL 62656, or to
gurga@ccaonline.com with “Bards of
the Sangamo” in the subject line. (Please limit your submissions to poems of
14 lines or less.)
This article appears in Jul 3-9, 2003.
