Lake Street Blues

Shagbark lovers huddle in scarves and skinny jeans …

O Lake Street, your patinaed epaulets, your unshrouded tiffs and contretemps over makeup and bikes on the sidewalk

With the sun on your back you are Green Lined hipster mercenaries, dwarves of commerce, and giants of the poisoned pen

Whistles of train stops, and bus brakes, hush now baby, we’ll get you fed when we return to our domicle du jour

Franchise teases and popcorn taunts, your architecture epigenetic and art decotarian

Your streets mad with beats and luked out sidewalkers damoselling with the asphalt damsel Princess Concreta

Shagbark lovers huddle in scarves and skinny jeans, I’m on my way over

Your bullying automobile horns issue red light camera tickets to my mind

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