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"Advice" & "Chicago" by Lisa Thornton

Advice




Don’t be stupid

he said to her

and I saw the cannonball

leave him and hit her

splintering her sternum and entering the cavern

where she stored them all

like a clown car full of pain

that never unloaded to show off

how much it could carry.


I wanted to tell her

that she didn’t have to keep it

that she could let it pass through

and exit out her back

leaving a circular blast hole of blown away skin

and that it wouldn’t even be a ball

anymore when it flew out

but four and twenty blackbirds escaping,


leaving her weightless.


Instead, I filled her coffee even though she had not asked.



Chicago




Let’s go to Chicago

and stay in a hotel

where we can see the lake from our room,


and do nothing except

walk up Michigan and back down

Wabash

picking out people to practice on.


There will be a business student from Columbia

turning up her collar in the wind

and a fast-moving doctor biking home from Rush.

He’ll have a wife at home

but will come back here later

after the kids are in bed

to that weird dirty

space that the Tribune forced Macy’s to clean up

in the tunnel under the street


to meet his former nurse

who quit three months ago to get her master’s degree

but instead watches cooking shows all day

and lives off her dead mother’s money

wishing she were in Italy

Madagascar

Mexico City

anywhere but Chicago


where everyone can see her.


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