errol miller
On The Eisenhower Expressway
Chopped prose
and Northern culture, no
poetry, (some to go) the cab driver
says the Syndicate does exist, a tour
and a half in Vietnam, drove trucks
over 15 years, then he and a buddy
went into their own business.
Inching down the Eisenhower Expressway
towards Oak Park witti my pocket picked, suddenly
I was in a hurry for Southern soil, Southern
voices, Southern sanctuary.
