Chicago Skyscrapers

Here in this fat city Men seventy-two inches short Have frozen their dreams Into steel and concrete Six hundred feet tall

Thin fingers On the hard hand Of Chicago's loop Are these skyscrapers Rubbing bright sides Of rainbow stars Tearing the gray gauze Of low clouds Dipping in the sizzling pot Of a summer sun Passing the jeweled moon From tower to tower Like a sapphire ring

While below

The masters move Dreaming greater dreams Of taller buildings Turning today's longest fingers Into dwarf-like thumbs Constantly pushing Evolution in stone Until some day Heaven will be Merely another high floor Barked by a uniformed boy On an express elevator Then A cranky god Jealous of his privacy May bend the fingers downward Toppling tall dreams frozen In steel and concrete Upon the puny dreamers Grinding all into A chaos of blood and stone

But Remembering the Tower of Babel Even that would not Discourage other builders— The tireless breed who dream In iron and granite. . . .