Jump to content
Attention, CICADA community!
  • It’s time to say goodbye—the community at cicadamag.com is now closed. Learn more...

Recommended Posts

Posted (edited)

seattle, concrete-bound pier, your slipknotted sidewalks/city blocks
traverse the port. when i was young i never dared set foot
into your dense skeleton, all asphalt and stainless steel and
sometimes, in the barrios, slumping wood.

but one day, after finding myself, after clutching blue
bus pass like a shield: you became a vast, unfamiliar home
where would I be without your droves of anonymous faces
like grapes cascading from a vine and your sky?

oh, your sky? framed, always, by the rooftops, enough that
ill never see your moon but from those very same rooftops?

i had no idea you were so endless. you remind me to be finite.

you sleep on the sea like a wayward soap bubble stranded on the surface.
it is as if you have come from man's feeble attempts at creating beauty.
you are not colorful, a sunken ship, or an edge waiting to slip, neither
understood nor incomprehensible. you are as sharp as a canine’s point.

you arrive bearing due west, towards the ocean's blue underbelly
while your space needle salutes the moon. I have marveled at your gardens,
be them of sound, glass, metal, or plants.

chihuly begs us to take up landscaping.

you’re seattle, the gay city, the starfish in the sand. you are a marvel.
just as our flag, you are as vibrant as the midnight sun. you are not warm
by any measure, all overcast rainy days, but you are definitely made true by your severity.
how fluid you are, and along the highway the boardwalks rock with the winter waves.

oh, seattle, you are the worst traffic and the endless night life. without you
i would have never heard of the food truck that sells the best bubble tea and chicken wings.
with you i find new ways to fall in love.

this is why, seattle, you are the embrace i can slip into and
lose myself in, why you refuse to let time run the same, why you shock hearts
like a defibrillator on the roofs of the strobing nightclubs.

i have praised many things, but for me you are more a fever dream than a dance floor of forgotten time.
to my eyes, you are an ocean drowning in itself.

 

 

((i used the same form as ode to the visible universe but with less improv. heres the template i used from my poetry class:

ode template.pdf

Edited by drowntown
  • Like 1
  • Love! 5

holla holla get dolla

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Sign in to follow this  

×