2.2 State Street, Chicago

STATE STREET, CHICAGO

by Eric Chaet

Beneath law, lie ocean, ape, & dream—
branches & leaves wrestle & dance with wind
roots reach elsewhere.

Broke-nose Chicago ascends the lumbering bus
jamming in aggravated swarms aboard
or slowly thoughtful in worn clothes—
to feed the work addiction, morning & streetlamp night.

My grandmother on my father’s side
rode by horse back from Pharaoh to Brestskaya
trained beyond pogrom Pale to Hamburg
emerged from ocean at Baltimore
& caught another connection
thru doppler zones, to this city.

Trailing Assyria, caesar, czar of all
Odessa & Kiev, hasid, & ritual butcher.

She met her man on day shift
& lived behind store-front near black Africans
mafiosa & their wives & children
Irish cops & bars & tenors
& stench of pig & steer massacres.

I am only trying for a straight account
of how I come to be walking up State
sucking Chicago’s rusty teat
dreaming & growing stronger.

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Picture: Chagall