Northeast of the I-25

Jaeger, a funny shaped dog, brushes past my feet as I agree to disagree with some girl I barely know. She’s kind, yes, but she doesn’t know that she’s quoting my mother and it rubs me the wrong way. It is nighttime and the sky is bright with the glow of a pathetic downtown: oddly, there is nothing more comforting, the way you look west and see black is the same as looking east to Lake Michigan. What is revealed at daytime is a natural magnificence situated near a bedridden city looking for some sort of saving grace.