Monday, October 28, 2013

'You Say, "HOW IS CHICAGO" ' by Ravyn LaRue


I said I'd go to bed in the last poem I wrote you, but nope, my heart won't let me
I thought of something else that I've had yet to put into words
People said before I came here that it'd be too big for me
An expansive place of decadence that a small-town rodent like myself would shrivel up in
But I find it comfortable in a disconcerting way
I wanted change from what I perceived as the monotony of a little city
But this is too fathomable
I know it's unsafe, and I'm not as naive as some take me for
But despite my exploring I'm left shrugging it off
Yes it's big and pretty but it lacks the depth I'm accustom to
I hate emptiness more than a heart or city full of sorrows
And that's not to say I hate it
I just hoped to fall in love
But when the spirit that resonates tends to be full of vitriol for people like me
It's impossible to fall in love
And that's the thing
It took leaving to realize
I am utterly, irrevocably and completely in love
With the city
With the state
With the old school
With you
With everything
People chuckle, "Oh you're so overwhelmed with such the big world you've found yourself in!"
But it's not a big world
It's long but contentless
And I'd prefer a sentence with depth than a novel with nothing
And that's what it feels like at the moment
Perhaps I just need more exploring
But I want days of plenty
And this is a whole lot of apathy and homophobia and monotone and all the things I don't want myself to be
But I pride myself in being able to cope with things I'm not used to
And I stay and love the art in spite of it all
Because I think of you
And my other beloved muses and think
They think I can make something of myself here, and if they think that, it'd be cruel to prove them wrong
And I seem to be riding some wave of something, though the city may be trying to get me to return to shore
It's 4:14 in the morning and I'm probably just complaining
But I long for the city to be what it once was
I want the grit and grime and blood
The pavements may be pretty but they lack the intrigue they're praised for
I suppose that's all I have to say right now
One last thing-
I always thought of Minnesota as the sort of mother one must escape from
But now my other mother Chicago smiles her sickly sweet smile with no warmth behind her gleaming teeth
And all I want is Minnesota with all her frosty faults and cozy spaces
Well, at least I'm honest, as embarrassing as it might be

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