promises of canadian bridges and a motor city flee with the dawn of the eighth windiest american city. indianapolis to serve as waylay and station to pick up another kindred soul. chicago's snow left my feet frozen, a southern boy last new years. there was a girl who received a letter of mine shortly thereafter:

carolyn,

typed not written. with broken splendor under these same stars seen much more southerly. the name of my mother. my mother’s name, with much smaller hands. champagne or urbana, i can’t remember which. which address gave she that he to her might write? southern boy sees snow and stars. the first clings and melts beneath her shoes. other shimmersheeningsparkles through red skirt. i covet my perhaps peacefully resting neighbor’s art. for you. chicago seems cold and far seems distant chicago. i could maybe no longer be unclosed. silently searching. lost somewhere in unheard illinoise. quieter than all roses. rhyming names and longlost syllables. you explain music to the deaf. she has nineteen years. one morning a new millennium and i still feel the same. o to have sipped urbanachampagne from your lips at midnight. never knowing if it’s a.m. or p.m. but loving it just the same.

.....she was not impressed