there are days
when i’ve driven
into the heart of the city
for proper shopping
or book making business
perhaps simply architecture appreciating
and climbed to the remaining portions
of the discarded sky walk system
that once linked all the skyscrapers
of cincinnati
in it’s pre-vestigial
conditions
.
i place a hand
looped with the handle
of a tiny blue tiffani’s bag
on the cold glass
taking in the flora and fauna
of vine street
between the old netherland hotel
and saks buildings
.
this is the moment
the grass is perpetually greener
on the other side
only in my case
it’s the blue grass state
i long for
.
tears running down my cheeks
wanting memaw’s arms
mom’s piano playing
my silly sisters laughing and bitching
the sound of a tent revival
and a believer yelling
“tell it, preacher!”
.
then i realize
it’s not the country i miss
i love my big loud dirty queen city
it’s being surrounded by
the wild and rampant loving hearts
of kentucky
.