Deep-dish pizza and Italian beef in
A rosy neighborhood blend with timeworn
Brick-architecture whispering its tale
It may be an emptiness of buzzards.

You hear the soft echo of blues and jazz,
While the gentlemen ride waves on the shore,
Their candid rhythms daring the mundane
To step aside for something amusing.

You stay, a soft sea urchin, expecting
A promise yet untamed or a wildness
Unspun by nature’s bounty, just until
Suddenly, the heavy floodgates swing wide.

You don a delicate mask of pretense,
Crafted by pilferers for deference;
But beneath that golden, borrowed glow, your
Lies, not your truth, wait, unbound and surreal.