Post 12 of 30: Chicago

As part of that Creative Writing class I mentioned in my last post, I also wrote a small set of poems to the city. In reading these, please understand that I was brought up in the suburbs of Chicago, not in the city itself. My folks lived 2900 north on Keating Avenue for less than three years before we moved to Mount Prospect. And now I'm fifty-some miles from downtown, so I am writing as an observer of the city rather than as a city dweller.

'Course, none of this really mattes, as we each have our own perspective, don't we?

All of the following are © 2000 by Mark Dopita.


A Bit of Fun, with ‘71

Chicago, Chicago, burning bright
Giving off un-holy light
To prove that I am not a liar
Take a look – downtown’s on fire!


You might remember that the city burned in 1871 - Mrs. O-Leary's cow and all that bit.


To Al Capone

Al Capone, along with his thugs and other
Mobsters, terrorized the city and its’ citizens
In Chicago’s chapter of Prohibitions
Dirty little book.

And though Capone was a complex man, and
Talented enough to run such a major enterprise,
In the end, he was nothing
But a simple crook.


My uncle Freddie, who died back in 1967, used to work for Al Capone during Prohibition. I probably don't have as high a regard for him as he did . . .


On Politics

“Chicago ain’t ready for reform!”
And in this town, ain’t that the norm?


Today, the whole state is as big a mess a Chicago is. And it looks like we're getting ready to vote a Chicago socialist into office? Lord, come and take me to your Kingdom!


Thoughts on Lake Shore Drive

Chicago’s really not that windy
Though her politicians are
But the pols ain’t out and about
When you slide your car
Into a lane on Lake Shore Drive.

The wide expanse of
Lake Michigan on one side,
On the other, expensive condo buildings
Lined up tall and wide
Peering out over the road.

Downtown is a sparkling jewel
A harpists strings waiting to be plucked
Stores, everywhere, and restaurants,
Bars; hidden treasures tucked
Among spires of stone, brick, steel and glass.

Now you’re south to Soldier Field
A monument to those who died
Defending us, and our freedom
In whom we show great pride
And only with monuments can repay.

Past Hyde Park and farther
South along the drive you go
Looking back o’er your shoulder
You draw in the breadth of a city so
Modern; beautiful; peaceful.

A city not without its’ problems
Racial, social divides and hate
But somehow, the City That Works;
A daily test of wills and, simply, fate:
Only time will prove your greatness.


Chicago is the City That Works. I am always amazed when I travel downtown - the buildings, the people, the food, the music! My wife and I attended both BluesFest and JazzFest this year and enjoyed both immensely. There's nothing like sitting in Grant or Millenium Park on a warm summer night, with Lake Michigan at your back, the music on stage in front of you, a li'l drink in your hand and the sun setting behind downtown.

Lovely . . .