Thinking about your clawfoot tub
Thinking about lake michigan
How it looks like an ocean against a ferris wheel
How we drive alongside it
just to go
home
Thinking about home
How it is where my heart is
And my heart is immovable from its display case
And how my only proof of life
is from its
echo
Thinking about your clawfoot tub
And about the window above it
And how the problem
is that I am
forgetting
Thinking about the long way home
Not knowing north from south
not needing to
And the lights were polka dot blurs
And I thought about my new dress
and I thought about
leaving
Thinking about your round belly
And your hands
And how you needed me to survive
To take gum out of your sleeping mouth
Because I needed you to
survive
Thinking about the southbound train
And how it would end
And how the leaving
would also
end
Thinking about repenting
About how I should have loved you sooner
So to not have to convince you now
That you are
good
Through photographs and these words
To slip one under the universe
To promise to them all
That I will be
good
----
this is a poem about my home of Chicago, I wish I were grateful for it sooner, and the woes of being young and always wanting more.