by william james
-for Manchester, NH
I drive to the grocery store
to relieve my refrigerator
of its crushing loneliness.
I return empty-handed
because I left my wallet
on my desk. & Elm St.
rages on, all gorgeous
cacophony. O Manchester,
you glittering rhinestone.
O Manchester, you tacky
plastic pearl. I love you
for your refined kitsch.
I love you for your cracked
& dirty sidewalks, your
barely-a-city skyline. I don’t care
about the dog shit in every park,
the filth crusting over
your alleyways. So what
if there’s dirty needle
in my driveway every three
or four days—you’re beautiful!
Like a garbage scow
freshly painted bright green,
trashy as bedazzled denim
or a dime-store pulp novel.
South Willow, you’re a crooked
smile with yellow teeth.
Dull ivory. O corner vape store
shining bright as the North Star!
O Millyard, repurposed
from industry to luxury condos
no one who lives here can even afford.
Amoskeag! O Amoskeag!
My heaven of perennial potholes,
sirens on every street. My paradise
of dirty snow. I claim you,
call you sanctuary of the weak
yellowsick sun. Here’s a parade
marching from the Arena to the Bridge,
and it’s all for you
my queen city. It’s all
for you.