Weekly feature by: Anne Garwig


To be prepared in the eventuality of forever
we need 90 years of activities
I will delay this poem another 70
for fear of running out of occupancy
for the time for getting old
isn’t scary but it’s best to pack
some food and maybe some Sudoku
not scary but boring not knowing
how long we will have to wait
to reach with any certainty another coast
manifest west by way of
manifold rest stops


We crossed the street near Humboldt Park
and you told me a nickname for Chicago
as two men passed us in the crosswalk
I did not hear clearly if one sai
“Beatles” or “Foals”
your shirt said Beatles mine Foals
but you claimed it
half selfishly half selfishly
to protect you to protect me
and the words on our chests
and the breasts behind mine
from intruder compliments


Once young enough
I was caught in the street
in front of a passing car
the driver stopped after
I chased the ball
into the road before them
my brother stood in the yard behind me
in memory a prime
and bright morning
ours was four houses from the top of the street
to the east
the industrial park rose with the sun
gleaming atomic-era lines
the giant nuclear furnace
chasing us from the east

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