Impressions of Chicago

By Matthew Cheng 

Night fell,

lights rose

from the Chicago River.

People far away could not be reached.

I walked by alone in the street.

A carriage drove towards a street corner slowly.

The mice went into the tussocks.

People smiling in the advertisements,

red wine swaying in the glasses,

forks chatting with knives,

while the homeless

totalled one hundred and forty thousand.

Some of them had lost their jobs,

abused by their husbands,

fell to illness,

went insane,

stayed silent,

frowned.

A dark hand reached out for a white cup

with no wine inside.

The neon lights under the billboards were bright.

The homeless huddled in blankets,

fending off the winter coming from Lake Michigan.

Lavish plays opened in the theatre,

circulating trains trapped people in the street jungle.

Ghosts on the river

gathered in the dark,

appreciated the lights of skyscrapers again

and talked to the passengers through the air.

But everyone rushed over the bridge.

(2015.9.23 CHICAGO，2015.9.25  IOWA)

(Translated by Cookie Tam)