Wild Chicago

But that was in the ’90s. It was still possible
to believe in things like
pantyhose or
public sculpture made of chrome fenders,
the timelessness of Seinfeld,
running out to White Hen, when you run out.
All the White Hens gone now,
though J.J. Peppers remains, improbably,
and it’s also possible that, in a cloth cubicle
somewhere, a male designer with a ponytail
works under a mobile he’s made
from CDs, only now
the ponytail is gray, the CDs quaint,
their rainbows tinged with nostalgia,
if not a bit of scorn.
We know better now! We were
ridiculous then, when we were young!
The lake is still the lake, however,
and able to be glimpsed
from the window of a bus
on Lake Shore Drive,
persuading 24-year-old women/girls
not to move back home to Ohio
(for example),
a new crop every year,
and now you know one of those,
too.

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