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

.