Cook County Caelus
by Stephen Jordan
A heavy dark hoary blue you spill
atop the dome—frosted airplanes only rim
underneath and birds don’t even try
I let fuzzy eyelashes close like useless teeth
My pooling sight sending everything swimming.
If you could lift up the edge, I’ll scuttle out--
It’s getting hard to breathe.
My dear Chicago sky, you’ve capped me cold this early eve
You trapped me twisting under your
darkening bowl. I’m fixed in tight tonight.
I break lose my frozen legs, step back from the lake’s edge
Walk on my ankles
I could capsize near lake’s horizon
Or pitch back into the city, keel through the concrete maze.
Scraped hands out in front.
atop the dome—frosted airplanes only rim
underneath and birds don’t even try
I let fuzzy eyelashes close like useless teeth
My pooling sight sending everything swimming.
If you could lift up the edge, I’ll scuttle out--
It’s getting hard to breathe.
My dear Chicago sky, you’ve capped me cold this early eve
You trapped me twisting under your
darkening bowl. I’m fixed in tight tonight.
I break lose my frozen legs, step back from the lake’s edge
Walk on my ankles
I could capsize near lake’s horizon
Or pitch back into the city, keel through the concrete maze.
Scraped hands out in front.
Stephen Jordan was born and raised in the Midwest, the son of Colombian and Serbian immigrant parents. He has taught high school English for over twenty years, taking occasional leaves-of-absence to live and work in South America, East Africa, and the UK. Steve has been published in Blue Unicorn, Lalitamba, Third Wednesday, Lyrical Somerville, and Common Chord Anthology, among others.