A happy Chicago poem

Naudia Williams

We footwork
In basements
Ditches or after doing dishes

We bounce
and break backs 
like chiropractic
To break death by its casket

We bop 
until legs
go numb
or until harolds 
or uncle Remus 
run out of mild sauce

We juke 
until we can afford 
another bus card
Until cta stop being so fu

We dive 
into deep dish 
like the last supper  

Praying 
on bended
concrete and potholes

We pray 
like the bulls 
are gonna finally win 
a championship
Or until chance
wins a 4th Grammy

We laugh 
like Kanye gon’
come back
And sit at the feet
of dondas house

Like we ain’t all broke-broke phi broke we ain’t got it