The train ride Binx and Kate took
In The Moviegoer was my introduction
To the thought of Chicago before I ever
Visited that grand city as a stop
On my drive across the country in a car
With a starter that was going bad—
At every stop refusing to start,
Which caused me to take it to a shop
And strand myself there for three days,
Sleeping in the cargo hold.
(It was a Volkswagen Rabbit and I
Made myself a bed there.)
The mechanic, wheelchair bound, said there
Was a part he’d need to order, which took
A couple of days, which wasn’t bad.
I grabbed my guitar by way of introduction
And rode the “L” downtown to start
Some kind of adventure: a donut shop
Where a girl said, “Do you only hold
That thing or can you play it?” So I
Pulled it out and played what I called “Used Car”
By Springsteen and scored the day’s
First donut and coffee and the first ever
Bit of fame I thought might never stop.
That lovely girl, though, was my last stop
On a slippery slope that started there
And ended up back at Dave’s shop
In the malaise of the night and my bad
And solitary bed. On the third day, I
Rose from my parking lot tomb, as ever.
Dave finished the job and I paid seven days’
Of my budgeted cash to get the car
Out of there and on the road. I took
It about a mile and, to see if it’d start
Again, pulled off, cut the motor, took hold
Of the key again and suffered a reintroduction
Of the problem whose first introduction
Had occurred in Idaho on my first stop
Of the trip. Never mind. Cut to many days
And nights and years later. Chicago took
Its place as the halfway point where I
And thou would meet and put our lives on hold
To navigate the genie soul of wind whenever
We could, hand in hand without a car,
From O’Hare on separate flights to start
Our explorations of the good and bad—
Trump Tower evincing the latter there;
The former, the Art Institute and its gift shop.
In love, we roamed from shop to shop
And made an extended introduction
Of art and architecture, taking time to stop
For views and drinks to sip and hold
While gazing lovingly, thou and I,
Into each other’s reveling to be there
With each other. Rarely, we’d hire a car
To get from point A to B with a bad
Driver at the wheel in a kind of daze
That made us wonder how many drugs he took.
Other times we’d rent bikes to start
A ride along the lake that could go forever.
Those were the days of after ever
After, when Chicago set the scene to shop
For the future of our new life and fresh start,
Looking at our reflection there
In the bean in Millennium Park, like a stop
On the rollercoaster of time, the bad
Interlude behind us and the days
Of boat rides through downtown and car
Rides in the countryside before us, I
With my daughters and you with your son. They took
To us graciously as the introduction
To this new life began to take hold.
In my Chicago mind, I hold
An image of us at Montrose Beach, wherever
The path had led us, an introduction
To Lake Michigan and a place to start
Our walk along the shore, the wind not bad,
The autumn sun like a golden car
Cruising up the sky while thou and I
Walked like angels ascending to a stop
For lunch at London House, the rooftop there
Commanding views of every café and shop,
And surrounding buildings that, when we later took
The river tour, would fill our minds for days.
That afternoon seemed to stretch for days
As we sat together on a boat built to hold
A hundred tourists or more sitting there
With us to see the Aqua with its ever
Undulating lines, Wrigley’s eye
To terra cotta connecting good and bad,
Marina City’s corncob look and onsite shop—
No need to leave or have a car.
We cruised along and gawked and took
A thousand pictures, our river-introduction
To amazements that seemed to stop
Time in its tracks, until we made it start.
Our Chicago times, from the very start,
Were some of our very best days,
Even when we got our introduction
To Pilsen, staying near the Pink Line stop,
Up the crookedest stairs we’d ever
Seen to an iffy AirBnB above a shop.
We bought a dozen eggs and I
Cooked them for every meal we ate there
Till we decided it was time to put a hold
On eggs—not that they were at all bad!—
And venture out for Mexican art that took
The cake and then to Cindy’s in a car.
An elevator car, that is, a car
That took us to the rooftop for drinks to start
An episode of elegance and views from there
To the bean below and then a repeat introduction
To the Hampton Social, near a beauty shop
Not far from Navy Pier, our favorite ever,
Maybe, a place to put your cares on hold
And enjoy authentic refinement that puts a stop
To the threat of the malaise—not that you or I
Were in any danger, being so in love we took
Each other’s breath away and all the days
Blurred into nights when nothing bad
At all could happen. Except for that one bad
Sandwich we ate that laid us low there
For but a blip, redeemed by Dogs for days
Found recommended with celery salt at the start
Of our third visit when we opted for an introduction
To the theatre district and the Kimpton Allegro. We’d stop
For champagne in the sparkling lobby and shop
For finery and memorabilia after we took
In Bernhardt/Hamlet at the Goodman. If ever
We’d had a glitzier time of lovely fun, we’d hold
That thought aside like a parked car
And just enjoy the loveliness of thou and I.
The next day, being librarians, you and I
Paid our respects to the public library with its bad-
Ass owls, then walked by Buckingham Fountain near there,
St. Peter’s Church in the Loop, its rosary shop
And streetwise crucifix to make the traffic stop.
We were veritably floating from now to ever,
Wondering at our lovely luck and lucky start
And this recurring windy city introduction
To the strange turn we’d taken in our souls’ car,
Traveling to the next opportunity to hold
Each other and to float in the air for magical days
On end and offer up whatever it took.
Back to O’Hare and its brachiosaurus, I took
My flight and you yours, to start our introduction
To a few weeks’ separation. Not forever, not too bad,
Because we’d soon shop for flights to London and there
Eke out a weeklong stop before the pandemic took hold
Like a swerving car that changed the course of our days.
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