Reality/Myth

A poem by Douglas Caraballo

Photo by Luke Stackpoole on Unsplash

The city is divided into two portions;
Reality and Myth.

The people flock from foreign soils
to stare up at idols and statues who
walked up and down 34th street,
in the blistering cold.

They walked here. Among us.
Rifting about jazz clubs that are
now coffee shops and banks.

They walked these tired streets
with restless energy, the lights
lick and dance in their minds
— the future is always on the
up and up.

We came here from a long way off.
My blood traveled through heat
and war, and salt and wind,
in order to descend upon this concrete.

What men what women,
lowered their nervous heads,
as they stepped off
beneath that greening lady
into the promised land.