J. M. Pressley
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Lincoln Park

Shit, man, I remember back when all you
Used to see 'round here was colors and rags;
Garbage on the sidewalks and streets, couldn't
Tell a gutter from a dumpster from a
Three-flat stoop. All them nice folks drivin' through
Used to roll up their windows and flip their
Locks when they passed through the hood on their way
To the Loop, or North Shore, or wherever
The hell they hid. But now they stop and park
In front of a fake-brick duplex 'long
Where there used to be a cheap liquor store;
All them nice folks came and scrubbed the place clean.
From cockroaches to condominiums—
I still ain't got a decent place to live.

© 1997 by J. M. Pressley

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