Friday, August 08, 2014

Poem - Oak Park

i would walk past
the house

where hemingway wrote
many of his first short stories

i saw it intimately in every season

and also the house
where he was born

up from the high school
in oak park

some oldster remembered him

even the streets in certain places held
his echoes and even scenes

he wished he could have

with the bravado
he encased himself in

because oak park is like this

so trim and prim
with the wide lawns he derided

where anything
drunk or stray didn't belong

god had no hard feelings
when the place was created

oak park has no hard feelings

thus hemingway became the
storyteller and the braggart

the lying hero and the wanderer
drunk and killer of others and self

just to get away from oak park

now ernest is dead
and oak park is just the same

the immortally serene location
where the wisconsin glacier stopped

the shore of ancient lake chicago

crown of the continental divide


from recollection

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