I know this is a little different from other blogs I’ve written here. But as I work on some big changes for this site, and in the context of life and adulting, I thought this would still work as a good post for this week.

I wrote this piece during one of my hour-long commutes on the CTA to work one morning. Hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

 

Inner City Travelogue

While on my way to work this morning,

Riding a train that slips between this world and my old one,

I looked down to find the memory of Iowa tattooed on a person’s wrist

Not the whole state to be exact,

But rather the symbol of its location,

The block letter word that reminded this person of home

 

And so I thought back to last weekend

When I met a man with a map of St. Paul, Minnesota, on his forearm,

Of weeks-old Michigan mittens branded along a shoulder and upper thigh

Months ago there was a girl with Chicago’s flag wrapped around her ankle,

Four six-pointed stars guiding her with every step of her feet

 

I suppose we are all walking maps like these people

With travel logs that we carry along our heartstrings

Of where we are

Where we wish to be

Where we’ve left pieces of our souls along the way