I sit at the second-story window.
2:15 a.m. Down on
Milwaukee Avenue,
the drunks shuffle home.
Across the street,
an L train rumbles
towards the Loop. Iron
gates cover the windows
of a hundred furniture stores.
My love, even their facile
come-on lines seem like
one of the poems
I spend all night
and day writing you:
NO MONEY DOWN
E-Z TERMS & INSTANT CREDIT
NO REASONABLE OFFER REFUSED
