Give ear
Patrick T. Reardon
Give ear, Lucy.
Consider the streets of Chicago —
the numbers, 35th, 79th, 103rd,
Streets and Places, below Madison;
K-town to the west
(Kilpatrick, Keating, Kilbourn),
and L-town, M-town, and on;
the Indian angles along ridges
(Vincennes, Clark, Archer, Ogden).
Each immigrant footstep.
Photo: Jon Sullivan
Hearken the cry of
dawn garbage trucks alleying
through Andersonville, Ukrainian Village,
South Chicago, Lincoln Square,
Austin, Ashburn, Lake View, Edgewater.
In the afternoon, Lucy, look up.
Lines of airliners move high above
across the blue, following Bryn Mawr
to the airport, following Lawrence,
following Foster.
A congress of sparrows
in this tree of furious debate,
pigeon hobos clotting the curb.
What is the sound of pain?
Evil dwells in foolishness and deceit —
in lust for comfort,
the cushion of bubble wrap.
Photo: Pixaby.com
Temple mercy, Lucy.
Right road, joy.
Compass the lost tribes,
the sinner saints, the precinct captains,
the no-work job holders,
the frayed and frictioned teachers
with their frayed and frictioned children,
the sidewalk wounded in the Loop,
on Michigan, outside Aldi’s on Broadway,
the singer of the song of songs,
the aging loudspeaker preacher,
the skipping peach-dress girl,
the crowd of high schoolers
louding up McDonald’s,
goofy with their youth and
zest and confusion, everything
a first, vacant lots awaiting construction.
Patrick T. Reardon
12.7.25
This poem originally appeared in Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Issue 14.
Written by : Patrick T. Reardon
For more than three decades Patrick T. Reardon was an urban affairs writer, a feature writer, a columnist, and an editor for the Chicago Tribune. In 2000 he was one of a team of 50 staff members who won a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting. Now a freelance writer and poet, he has contributed chapters to several books and is the author of Faith Stripped to Its Essence. His website is https://patricktreardon.com/.