Leaving Chicago

Let me sleep in bed dreaming of disasters, let me lay awhile and wander, wallow in a swamp full of cypress knees that beckons us to forsake this mire full of bullets. We are the mighty cedar of Lebanon fortifying this bed in times such as these. Up there you hold up a green canopy above my head, but the sky bursts open and pours down rain, sour libations that ensnare our tongues, paralyze our feet. We missed our chance to be judged in May and instead stomped over to Memphis to try some blue barbecue. We then slid down farther south to whittle names in the cradle of the oak, laced with moss. Let me not dream of disasters. Let me not be lonely in the confines of your arms. Let me sleep in bed and let my slumber be restless. Content, let me dream of you before Chicago, before river, before wind, and drink the black coffee of your mouth.