City of the Big Shoulders ~ Friday, February 20, 2026
As Around a Blind Corner of the Eye
Around each blind corner, opportunity waits, is it love, hand in glove
stick a knife in your back, Chicago, no pity, the city has no love
Ask around town, you find too many solutions, too many opinions
rest assured, no one cares, they will turn a blind eye to poverty and greed
obey unspoken rules while on public transit, move on if you smell shit
understand how it works, nothing is ever clear, not ever explicit
never to recognize the horror of sorrow, why must the city bleed
drown in all the hatred, decades upon decades of neglect by minions
architects of status, power, corruption, lies, delusion comes to die
Belligerent systems, systemic racism, nepotistic cronies
listen, if you visit or stay for quite a while, Chicago does not care
if you die, to bury or cremate your cold corpse, you have to pay the fare
nothing but suffering, fun and joy, the spectrum, with pendulum ponies
decide if the future is real or just the past, on the wall, a crushed fly
Crushed by a flyswatter, Chicago does not care, big shoulders, what a joke
old dead poets once spoke kindly to white people, their audience, their kind
realize, to come here, how pretty, the city, tall buildings never fall
not unless an earthquake, like in San Francisco, flattens the city, broke
empty pockets, no cash, no spare change for beggars, bitter cold, break the mold
rest not on your laurels, there is work to be done, much work, corners are blind
only, gouge out my eyes, tired, never to know, to work, I hear the call
forget, two hands, two feet, arms and legs, head and brain, torso and a long neck
transform all that I see, imagine the unknown, if I could be so bold
helpless to offer aid, too poor, too broke, my heart, not in it anymore
ego is a balloon, as overinflated as a small pufferfish
Emptiness, I confess, I gave up church for Lent, post-colonial bore
yesterday, I woke up, I was born in Bombay, never return, I wish
every city, a myth, a narrative structure, just another car wreck
Around each blind corner, opportunity waits, is it love, hand in glove
stick a knife in your back, Chicago, no pity, the city has no love
Ask around town, you find too many solutions, too many opinions
rest assured, no one cares, they will turn a blind eye to poverty and greed
obey unspoken rules while on public transit, move on if you smell shit
understand how it works, nothing is ever clear, not ever explicit
never to recognize the horror of sorrow, why must the city bleed
drown in all the hatred, decades upon decades of neglect by minions
architects of status, power, corruption, lies, delusion comes to die
Belligerent systems, systemic racism, nepotistic cronies
listen, if you visit or stay for quite a while, Chicago does not care
if you die, to bury or cremate your cold corpse, you have to pay the fare
nothing but suffering, fun and joy, the spectrum, with pendulum ponies
decide if the future is real or just the past, on the wall, a crushed fly
Crushed by a flyswatter, Chicago does not care, big shoulders, what a joke
old dead poets once spoke kindly to white people, their audience, their kind
realize, to come here, how pretty, the city, tall buildings never fall
not unless an earthquake, like in San Francisco, flattens the city, broke
empty pockets, no cash, no spare change for beggars, bitter cold, break the mold
rest not on your laurels, there is work to be done, much work, corners are blind
only, gouge out my eyes, tired, never to know, to work, I hear the call
forget, two hands, two feet, arms and legs, head and brain, torso and a long neck
transform all that I see, imagine the unknown, if I could be so bold
helpless to offer aid, too poor, too broke, my heart, not in it anymore
ego is a balloon, as overinflated as a small pufferfish
Emptiness, I confess, I gave up church for Lent, post-colonial bore
yesterday, I woke up, I was born in Bombay, never return, I wish
every city, a myth, a narrative structure, just another car wreck
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