Typical
abandoned old soot grime steel mills
sulfur
wafting through Braun’s bread
on the
way home from the store when I was ten
The
loaves were usually marred with alley dirt
always
a few slices short
Staples
for the long walk home from school
Shopping
trips to Bogg’s and Buhl’s and Diamond Market
hanging
on to bags and sweaty palms
lest I
lost my way in the crowds of sale mongers
or
missed a step on the streetcar
with
its scary electric arm
protruding
the sky for its life source
Herr’s
Island hoofaroma stunk up the whole East Street Valley
with
the souls of the slaughtered given way to big house fever
and
carbon monoxide spewing SUVs in the morning rat race
and
Bogg’s and Buhl’s never had a chance
in
the tear ‘em down, build ‘em up society
Now,
city strip paints pictures of Asian chicken sticks
and
bagels piled high on your plate on a lazy Saturday morning.
You and I will never know half the
stories
and the dust will never settle in this
city
Sandra
L. Hazley
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