Into the garden of good and evil,
I walked my dog, and thought about the cost of living.
The coordinates were all wrong, like a cardboard box
in the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art.
I felt like a wax figure melting under the powerful
kleig lights of a gunboat patrolling the river Styx.
It seemed, as if a well of forsaken souls beckoned
like a glimpse into a world where the sun shines
on certain Tuesdays when legislators convene
to pass laws that will never be revoked
and are enforced by the type of thugs you see
sprawled in a drunken stupor on the waterfront.
I began to gather my wits, like picking cotton.
Maybe I could walk with you along some path
of privileged characters and beautiful people
dressed to the nines on New Year’s eve.
Maybe I could become a marvelous superhero
in Spandex tights, or a fire breathing monster
you couldn’t even look at without flinching.
There are a million of these stories in nude cities
that were built in a day and destroyed overnight.
Richard Fleming attended Northern Illinois University for four years and studied Fine Art. He is a graduate of Loyola’s Mundelein College and has a BA in English Literature,and a BA in Fine Art. He is a member of Woodstock Nation. He was a dedicated participant in Chicago Poetry circles and the coffeehouse grind, with featured readings in venues like the Body Politic, The Kingston Mines and the Green Mill.
Read more of Richard’s poetry in Poésie Moderne de Noël in DM Zweiundfünfzig Schneeglöckchen
