Living in the city,
For a northern country boy
(Like me)
Such freeway struggles
Are “such a pity”.
Life here amongst
Concrete, pavement
Tar, & glass,
I am just
A frustrated interstate
Pirate,
Stealing moments of
Roadside love & beauty,
I know I have no chance to last.
I’ve lived in Chicago,
Milwaukee,
And San Anton’.
Those little country towns
(Where trains and rivers Flow free),
Will always be home to me.
There’s lot’s of “Country
Folks” locked-up in the city.
You can tell them by fences
Round their yards,
Gardens, flowers,
And trees-
But beyond any fences
(They may choose to build)
Blacktop, Asphalt,
Steel and glass,
Dominate their lives
Into small moments
Of now and the
Future.
They are roots trying to grow
Without a past.
Living in the city,
Is not really my
“Way of life,”
Cement freeways,
Steel frames,
Parking lots,
Elevators
And traffic jams-
Can life be any colder
Even in northern
Winterlands?
We’ve all met
Express life-
Ramps to egos and beyond,
Fashions of success,
Sometimes built on plastic
Images raised
Too far off the ground,
Shopping malls,
Marble halls,
Cement towers
And parking stalls,
Women trying to be models-
Models trying to be women-
They try to “accentuate”
Parts
Fantasies and sales,
Some believe they have no parts
And try to pretend
Life really isn’t real.
Men who play parts-
Not what they think or feel,
Only what they want you to see.
Some don’t believe in parts
And others pick a part to steal.
We’ve all met,
Face to face,
Expressway life-
Get-away affairs,
Love down to
Who, when and where.
Living in the city,
There have been times
When all those freeway lines
And mammoth “sales signs,”
Become more than
Plastic, glass and steal,
When my watch and I
Have almost committed
The crime
Of not being “on time.”
In all this intersection
And round and round,
It has occurred to me
I’ve often placed these things
“More important,”
Than hills, rivers, and trees.
Am I a prisoner
Of my own decree?
No,
I’ve decided,
Although it may be
Just a fool’s vision,
Expressway life
Will not be
My prison.
Living in the City,
For just a northern
Farm boy like me,
I’ve got to be
At home with the life around me-
The hills,
The rivers,
The trees-
If one day
I am gone,
You will find-
Simply-
I’ve only decided
“to go home.”
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