Chicago
No protected areas. Nothing further entangles
us than we entangle them. We have failed
to be modern for centuries.
Three grackles on a TV antenna that's
not used anymore because the owners
now have cable. He was fighting a cold.
Last I heard, he was staying in a Ramada Inn
on the outskirts of Budapest, homesick
for Chicago, its Miracle Mile.
Now, in the post-print world, we no longer
tolerate rudeness, inefficiency, crankiness.
Our moodiness melts in cyberspace.
Beneath the surface, he discovered major
culinary advances--new fat-free sauces,
herbal dressings. Capturing goodness
once and for all. As he dresses each morning,
he itemizes his expenses. Everything else
is history. You were born, you die.
Two brothers by the lake, the older one shorter
than the younger, through some genetic deficiency.
The nation around them, intent on itself.
Once we were seated by the pool, a topless waitress
came over and took our order for drinks. We stayed long
enough to hear the phrase "virtual reality"
repeated three times at nearby tables. Chicago
was just a whisper away. Her voice downstairs
on the telephone, soliciting contributions
for Serbian draft resisters. Her sleepy face,
leaning toward the door, the dogs barking.
Before that, there was isolationism, no?